Brotherhood Never Fades
by Firestar'sniece
Summary: After the war Eragon goes missing and Murtagh is determined to find his brother. However Eragon is afraid of what he has become and doesn't want to come home. So he stays away. But as strange occurrences happen in Alagaesia and people are coming back from the dead, both must challenge authority, and Jane and Alec must choose between Eragon, their new coven brother, and the Volturi.
1. Chapter 1: Awakening to New Life

**I don't own Inheritance Cycle or Twilight.**

Prologue

Laughter filled a clearing deep in a forest. A huge bonfire was in the middle of a wide group of travelers of various sorts, and a few dragons roared in delight, joining in the entertainment and forays.

One particular dragon and man laughed as they journeyed away from them to gather firewood together. It was dark outside and though the boy had magic the she dragon was rather protective of him.

Eragon was still chuckling as he journeyed deep into the forest with Saphira, and as he stopped to gather some sticks and twigs, then some bigger logs, he heard the gurgling of water. Contentment filled him as he listened.

Suddenly a twig snapped and as he turned around in surprise he heard Murtagh and Thorn coming towards him, a look of contentment on their faces.

It had been a few years since the war and the riders were well on their to being established with wild dragons once again roaming the earth. The riders, minus Arya, Murtagh, and Eragon, numbered twenty eight. That and there were already urgal and dwarf riders.

As Eragon thought of Angela's "prophecy", he saw that she hadn't been entirely right. Either that or she hadn't interpreted it right. Sure, he'd left Alagaesia and never returned to it, but that didn't mean that he hadn't returned to the land because by the time he came back it was no longer called Alagaesia, the inhabitants choosing to give it a different name. They'd wanted to change the name because of everything that had happened. The name of Alagaesia seemed to have a bad connotation now days. So yeah, in a sense he never returned to Alagaesia.

The so called noble romance part had also bothered him. As it turned out, his relationship with Arya hadn't been as long lasting as they liked. Sure they both had feelings for each other now, but their duties got in the way. That, and it became painfully obvious that a romance wasn't going to be possible for them. After all, she was the queen of the elves and he was the leader of the riders.

If he engaged in a relationship with her, then he wouldn't be able to be unbiased towards the four races. And so, painfully, they agreed to end their relationship and try a romance with someone else. Though their friendship remained. Eventually, Eragon was able to get over her, and she him, but there were times when Eragon wondered if he was really over her at all.

Another bothersome part of the so-called prophecy was that Murtagh hadn't really betrayed him. He wasn't responsible for all the actions he'd done. He'd been forced into them.

Speaking of the red rider, after he'd wandered about for about five years he'd come to find Eragon. While he was still haunted about the past he'd finally come to enough terms to be able to cope and was ready to be near his only remaining immediate family, Eragon. Eragon had welcomed him with open arms and was ready to give him responsibility among the riders.

That was harder said than done however. It took a lot to convince everyone that Murtagh wasn't responsible for his actions and was being controlled. It also took a lot to convince them that he'd been brainwashed. it had been a difficult and a trying time for the red dragon and red rider. During that time Murtagh had re-experienced some of what he'd gone through under Galbatorix, and he'd had many nightmares. Fearing they'd never forgive him, he was ready to flee and never come back when Eragon tried a different tactic.

The lead rider had been harsh with the others, pointing out that they'd held no blame to others who'd been forced to swear fealty to Galbatorix, who's true names had been taken, and/or had been brainwashed, and yet they weren't willing to show the same understanding to his brother.

It was at that point that Eragon accused them of being prejudice towards his brother because he was the son of a forsworn and stated that if he hadn't been related to Morzan he wouldn't be experiencing such prejudice now but would be pitied. He also threatened to remove his support, saying that as having experienced such persecution by Galbatorix himself he wasn't willing to stand by and let the new regimes do the same to others.

Needless to say the entire groups present had been shocked by Eragon's forwardness, and the blue rider's political tactics worked. Many vehemently denied, while the rest were unsure and began to take a new perspective in things, considering that perhaps they were holding double standards and were being prejudice towards him. But regardless, it had accomplished what Eragon had wanted it to. By pointing these things out and threatening to withdraw his support he had forced them to consider Murtagh in a new light and for them to submit to his proposal.

"Besides," Eragon had said. "As you are not riders you have no say in what the riders do. We are a separate group and separate entity. You have no right to attempt to control us."

To Eragon the sad part of the whole situation was that everything he had said was true. And it hurt him to see his brother and the red dragon treated in such a matter.

They began giving Murtagh a chance and though many still held grudges against him he was eventually able to convince most that he wasn't going to harm them and that he was loyal to Eragon and the riders. And so, given about three years he didn't have as big a problem as he used to, though some still held onto the grudges.

Then again there would probably always be some sort of resentment or another for many empire loyalists were having trouble readjusting to having lost the war. And many empire loyalists didn't like Murtagh either, perhaps more than there were those of the Varden that hated him.

But Murtagh was coping and finding peace in his new life. He'd even began making friends in all the races. Orik and most dwarves had forgiven him for Hrothgar's death and Arya and the elves were accepting him of being a rider. But Eragon wondered if they did it for his sake only.

Nasuada understood Murtagh, and though their feelings didn't redevelop, which was sad for Murtagh, he was getting used to merely being friends with the woman. Soon it didn't hurt that they couldn't ever have a romantic relationship.

Then again it made sense. She was mortal and he was immortal. If he ever pursued a relationship with her, he'd outlive her anyways and be forced to watch any children they had live and die, as well as their descendants. So in the end it was for the best. He'd been through enough heartbreak. That and he wasn't quite ready for a romantic relationship yet, especially after he was recovering from Galbatorix's brainwashing still.

Eragon was happy that Murtagh was returning to the way he was when he first met him. But it saddened him that he and his dragon still struggled. A part of Eragon wondered if they'd ever recover completely. That, and there was still a lot of evidence that he was affected by the trauma of the past.

There were times when Murtagh was still confused from the brainwashing and he was unsure of what to believe, what Galbatorix told him or what he'd believed before that. And sometimes he got mixed up, stating things that Galbatorix must have told him without realizing that he was spurting the propaganda given to him. The reason Eragon was sure that it was the beliefs that Galbatorix had made him believe was because Murtagh had stated his belief in the opposite when Eragon first met him.

Sometimes Murtagh didn't know what to think and he'd confessed to Eragon that he was sometimes confused as to who he really was and what he really believed. Murtagh had said that he was sometimes confused if he believed a particular thing because it was what he really believed or if it was because it was something that Galbatorix had originally told him or subconsciously made him think.

But these occurrences were becoming rarer. Eragon also kept them to himself because he didn't want others to know that Galbatorix still partially had a hold of Murtagh even though he was dead. He was afraid that it would lead to Murtagh being persecuted and that was the last thing that the red rider needed when he was still recovering.

Another concern for Eragon was Thorn and Murtagh's memory. When Murtagh had come back Eragon had started to notice that Murtagh had a lapse in his memory of past things related to the war. In fact some things Murtagh didn't even remember. Others he didn't remember quite correctly. It led Murtagh to be confused at times when things of the traumatic past were brought up. The same thing happened to Thorn.

When Eragon brought up his concern about it Murtagh was uneasy. Neither had an answer as to why it was happening nor did Murtagh realize that it was happening. Eventually Eragon pushed Murtagh to see an elven healer. Murtagh had been wary at first, but after persistence and practically being pushed to do so, both dragon and human agreed to it if Eragon and Saphira would accompany them. Both agreed.

The elven healer said it was normal in trauma cases. He told them that it was not uncommon when something traumatic happened for the mind to edit the most horrid of them out or to force them to forget large chunks entirely. It was the mind's way of protecting the individual. He even mentioned that sometimes it led to wide scaled amnesia, which fortunately had not happened. Such amnesia cases depended on the person and had no relation to how to traumatic the incident had been. Some merely experienced it while others didn't.

Murtagh and Thorn were relieved that it didn't happen to them, but they still didn't like that parts of their memory were missing. The elf said to expect it and it was a protection to them. That, and if they couldn't remember then they weren't ready to remember. Though that didn't reassure them they were relieved to gain some understanding.

Murtagh pressing against Eragon's mind brought the rider back to the present. 'Mind if I join you?' Murtagh asked in his mind after Eragon lowered his defenses and Eragon nodded.

After gathering the firewood and going back they joined once more in the discussions of the travelers. They were currently on their way to the capital to join in some competitive games, and their company consisted of riders and others they had gathered along the way. Some of them happened to be their friends who inquired of their welfare.

(A day later)

Having to travel on foot was a bore to the dragon riders, but none the less they were happy to have company. True they could made the journey in less than half the time riding their dragons, but then they would miss out on the wonderful stories their friends had to share.

They were currently camped in the forest again and once again it was night. Eragon, needing some privacy, and his dragon out hunting to get away from the other obnoxious younger dragons, some bonded to riders while others were wild, therefore she couldn't keep him company.

"I'm getting firewood," Eragon announced and proceeded to exit immediately. Besides, now that the others were getting the bonfire ready with wood they already had, they wouldn't need him.

Eragon sighed as he looked at his surroundings and took off at a jog to get some distance between him and the camp. His dragon would be gone for a while and he didn't need her currently. Besides, she needed to take care of herself.

When Eragon finally stopped, he was near a stream. Stepping through a thicket of small trees he stopped by the bank of the river and went to get a drink of water. A clearing was on the other side of the river, extending as far as the eye could see.

As he bent down and ran his hand into the stream something in the distance, about four miles out caught his attention. Looking up, he saw a figure in the distance, a human he assumed. He wondered how he hadn't noticed it before. A moment later he gasped and fell back for it was directly in front of him, standing where his feet had been as he'd fallen back.

Eragon's brain was confused. Hadn't it just been in the distance? How could it be here so quickly? He gasped even more as he saw the inhuman beauty that this human being had. She was tall, taller than any woman he'd met, and though the elves were called the fair race her beauty far exceeded any of the elves' beauty. That and her beauty merely seemed unnatural. Her pale skin and curvy features were contrasted by a most beautiful light brown color of slightly wavy hair reaching to her hips. In fact, her beauty seemed like it should belong in a dream instead of real life.

But what frightened Eragon most were the eyes. Deep, dark red eyes bore into him and held him paralyzed in place, observing him. He was caught like a deer in headlights, unable to move. Not even a scream could escape him. He didn't even know why he was frightened, but all he knew was that he was.

But despite his body screaming at him to run, he couldn't, her charisma holding him there even though he knew he was going to die if he stayed. But he simply **_couldn't_** leave this beautiful woman alone and at the mercy of the wild. For some reason he had compassion on her even though his body told him not to. But he felt compelled to have pity on her without understanding why.

"What is your name?" her musical voice asked and it was memorizing in a dangerous sort of way, like a venus fly trap. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard and immediately he felt compelled to obey. How could he not disobey such a beautiful being like her? Her beautiful charm made him loose reason.

"Eragon," he answered firmly, not understanding why he was complying, just that he should.

The woman chuckled and a shiver fell down his spine. "Well, Eragon," she stepped closer and fear gripped the boy though he was unable to move away. "How foolish of you to leave the safety of your friends."

Eragon didn't see her lunge at him. He didn't even have time to scream before she had a hand to his mouth and he was dragged away, the world flashing by so fast that his brain couldn't interpret what was happening nor could he interpret his surroundings. He didn't even register that they were moving.

But as fast as it had happened it was over with and he found himself airborne, landing roughly on the ground. Yelping as he crashed to the ground no doubt earning him some bruises, he noticed for a brief moment that he was nowhere near where he was before, probably several miles away. No one would know he was in danger, let alone hear him scream for help if he tried to. They wouldn't even be able to reach him with a couple days worth of traveling at this pace, and that made him wonder how fast this creature really was.

But he had more pressing issues right now. Right now the red eyed human like creature was watching him curiously, and stalking forward slowly so as not to frighten him. And Eragon couldn't help but whimper and draw away from her slightly, feeling his bruises.

"Don't be frightened," she purred and Eragon was frozen in her presence once more, unable to move. But that didn't change the fact that he **_was_** frightened. In fact he was terrified of her. She had practically kidnapped him after all.

"Don't be frightened," she reassured him again and now she was in front of him once more, having had arrived in front of him at a slower than human pace. "I just want to talk to you before I kill you. I do need to eat you know. But I am always curious about the lives of my victims before I kill them."

Eragon whimpered an unnatural fear coming over him. He'd never encountered a being before where he didn't even stand a little bit of a chance against. With Galbatorix he could learn magic and learn swordsmanship to defend himself against the man, but he would never have any defense against this woman and others like her. And he realized how defenseless he was. If she said he was going to die then he was going to die and there would be nothing he could do about it. Not even Saphira had the power to save him from this creature should she arrive in time to help him. He was going to die and he knew it.

He curled into a ball, shivering in fear. "Don't be afraid," the woman reassured him and reached out a hand to touch him, almost as if to reassure him. Immediately he froze in fear and the shivering stopped. "There you go," she reassured him with a small smile and another shiver ran down Eragon's spine. "Now," she announced as if she was ready to get back to business. "Where were you born? What was your life like?"

And immediately, being charmed by her demeanor and beauty, Eragon found himself telling her, though he didn't know why. He simply couldn't resist telling her. And she listened attentively like a good listener which surprised him. He also found himself explaining things to her in detail, subconsciously trying to buy time, to delay his death. And for a few minutes he found himself unable to feel his fear, like it was in the back of his mind even though she had promised him death.

When he done the fear was brought to the front of his mind again and he shivered. "What are you going to do with me now?" he nervously asked.

The woman smiled a deadly smile. "Run," she purred, and Eragon was frozen in shock. When she lunged at him, Eragon shielded himself with his arms, leaning back, but was surprised when he didn't feel the impact. In fact she was nowhere to be seen. She was merely trying to frighten him.

But it worked. Eragon got up and ran in terror, calling out to Saphira, wondering why she couldn't hear him.

It didn't take long before something slammed into him and he was thrown into a tree. He crumpled down to the forest floor and stayed there in shock for a minute before getting up and running again.

Once again he was slammed into, but this time he was pinned down, face in the dirt, unable to see, breathe or scream. The woman's lips prickled at his ear as she whispered to him in a soft tone that he could hear, "I hope you don't mind me playing with you before you die. I do it to all my victims. I always play with my food. It makes it entertaining."

Fear gripped Eragon again as he realized he was going to have a slow and terrible death. But then the pressure lessened and he whipped around not seeing her.

He was so terrified that he curled up and began crying, not moving from that spot. That was until she screamed into his ear, "What are you doing? Run!" And with that he found himself thrown across the field again. This time he did run.

It continued like this for some time as he was slowly tortured to death. He'd run only to be pinned down, thrown a distance, or even have a limb broken. But she'd always let him go again. Soon he was limping from all his broken bones and he was in agony. But every time he stopped she'd attack him again and punished him worse for not giving her entertainment. But if he ran or moved she'd let him go for some longer time before she attacked him again.

Finally, he simply couldn't move anymore from pain and exhaustion and he collapsed, unable to stand up. All his ribs were broken and he was crying in agony.

Once again, she was there in the blink of an eye. "Well?" she snarled. "Get up and run!" She threw him again and this time more of Eragon's spine cracked. He screamed out. "Run!" she snarled, there in an instant again, and he was thrown once more. Four more times she did this and he was still unable to get up. She was there in an instant, but this time she didn't do anything, she observed him for a minute and then she sighed. "I guess the end is near then," she said aloud, obviously wanting him to hear. "Guess I get my meal now."

In an instant she was crouched beside him, his arm in her mouth as she sucked his blood out and Eragon was screaming in even more agony, this experience the worst pain he'd ever experienced in life (even the previous injuries from her attacks didn't feel this bad). He was unable to stop himself from convulsing from the pain.

But his struggling did nothing to loosen her iron grip on him. In fact, it didn't seem to affect her at all. To him, it seemed to last for an eternity, and then she pulled away, surprise in her face. Eragon was crying, panting, and still groaning from the pain and he wanted nothing more than for it to end.

"Huh!" she titled her head curiously. "Guess I wasn't as hungry as I thought. It must have been that snack that I had this morning. No matter, you're dead anyways." And with that Eragon screeched as she lunged at him, snapping his neck. Then it was over.

Chapter One: Awakening to New Life

For a while, after having been murdered, Eragon felt nothing. In fact, he was pretty sure he was dead. It stayed this way for what felt like thousands of years but was in reality only a couple of hours. Then things changed as whatever he felt a burning fire hotter than the sun in his heart.

How long it had been there, he didn't know, but it had obviously been slowly saturating his heart for a while, and now that whatever this was had completely soaked his heart, his heart all of a sudden ignited and was on fire, a steady heartbeat thumping in his chest once more, and for the last time.

Fear engulfed him once more as the fire spread. After a few minutes his neck was snapped back and repaired better than before, and slowly the fire traveled through him, healing him, changing him.

He remained this way for some time, the fire only increasing in pain and torturing him further. Eragon could tell that he was thrashing around, screaming his lungs out. He couldn't help it. But he wasn't always aware of his surroundings as the fire consumed his consciousness.

Eragon begged with his mind, hoping someone would hear him. He begged for the fire, the pain, the torture to end. In fact, things were better when he was dead. At least he wasn't feeling pain then. But no one heard him and he was forced to endure the pain.

After what seemed like eternity the fire began fading away. As it burned brighter and harder, the venom causing his heart to beat faster, his heartbeat stopped, and he pain was gone. Now Eragon was confused. He was still alive?

The boy opened his eyes and gasped. The world was new to him in a way he never imagined. Immediately, he felt a strong burning feeling at the back of his throat and his hands flew to his neck, clawing at it desperate for it to stop. It was making it hard for him to think.

Suddenly, a thump, thump was heard in the distance and Eragon had no explanation for why he reacted the way he did. His mind simply wasn't there anymore. He practically flew to the source, his feet gliding across the surface of the forest floor, and he didn't register as he leaped onto a bear and began draining it of blood. In fact, it wasn't until he'd drained several animals and his thirst was quenched that he registered what he had done. And then he was afraid.

Taking in his torn clothes that were stained with blood Eragon whimpered and ran as far away from the animal as possible. Now that he could think he realized what he had done. It was vivid to him and he realized that his mind must have recorded it distinctly even though he wasn't aware of what he did at the time for he was able to recall perfectly how he had stalked all the animals and slaughtered them in his mad thirst. And he was ashamed.

The gurgling of a stream reached his ear. It was several miles away but he cleared the distance in no time, running so that he could clean up himself in the water and look less morbid before he proceeded to wallow himself in pity. But as he reached the stream he froze in fear as he saw his reflection. He looked nothing like Eragon. He didn't even know who the man in the stream was. In fact, he was pretty sure he looked like the woman who had killed him, that is if he had been able to see her crystal clear like he could see everything crystal clear now, and not with his muddy human/elf vision.

The moment he thought it it was done. He leaped away into the tree above him and curled up near the trunk, not even looking at the stream. Whimpering at his sudden predicament, he began crying and was even more distressed when he produced no tears. He was crying! He should be able to produce tears!

"Who am I?" he asked himself. "**_What_** am I?"

(Three months later)

(Murtagh Point of View)

Murtagh groaned softly as a soft knocking on the door reached his ears. He wanted nothing more than to wallow in self pity and grief at what he had experienced the past few months, especially as he'd never had time to grieve properly. There simply hadn't been time and there had been too much to do. But he desperately needed it.

The knocking became more insistent and so Murtagh walked over to the door. He was still dressed in his day clothes from the previous day as he hadn't changed into his pajamas before going to bed. Then again, he had to force himself to do his own hygiene. That was how depressed he was.

Three months ago, to this day, his little half brother, or rather little brother and best friend as he had thought of him as, had disappeared. Neither he nor his dragon Saphira had shown up. It had put everyone in a state of shock when no one could seem to find him after that fateful promise of gathering firewood for them. Not even a body had been found.

While Murtagh still had hope that the boy was alive, what he desperately needed was closure one way or another. While he didn't want him to be dead, at least if both of their bodies were found, then he and his dragon wouldn't have had to live in constant uncertainty, as well as wonder what direction to go. Should they continue looking for them, or should they declare them dead?

But no matter what, Murtagh wasn't willing to declare them dead, not until bodies were produced. After all, he'd been there once before, people assuming he was dead even though there was no body.

And that made Murtagh wonder if foul play was involved. Could Eragon have been kidnapped? And if so, where was he? How was he to find him? And so, for three continuous months, searches had been continuing even though the trail had run cold. They'd found no tracks, nothing since he'd vanished. He'd basically just disappeared off the face of the earth.

Immediately, they had gone to the capital, as it was now called since they hadn't come up with a new name, and they'd demanded manpower to search for him. Of course Nasuada had complied, and even the elves had pitched in when they heard. Meanwhile, the dwarves had conducted their own search party. And so, Murtagh returned to the same spot with allies, but they had yet to turn up with anything.

Murtagh had been terribly disappointed. In fact, he was furious. He demanded that they keep searching when everyone had given up, and the elves had had to pull him aside to tell him that they were leaving. When Murtagh had lost his temper and accused them of giving up so soon, they had been forgiving, but reaffirmed their decision. They were pulling out.

Next to leave had been the humans, and Murtagh was notably disappointed that his own race would abandon one of their own so easily. He could understand another race doing it, but not his own kind. But interestingly enough, the dwarves had stayed for quite a while longer, more than twice the length of the other two. It was through that that he realized that they must have really considered him one of their own, and he was admittedly surprised. But eventually they left to to hold their own grieving ceremony for him.

And so, all that was left to search for Eragon were the dragon riders who were now under Murtagh's command. And the riders had been another issue that had quickly drained him.

When it became apparent that Eragon wasn't going to be found and that the riders were in need of another leader, Aria had immediately told Murtagh to step up to the plate and take control.

"Why should I?" Murtagh had hissed at her, still emotional and irked that the elves had abandoned Eragon so easily. "_**Eragon **_is the leader, not me!"

Arya had sighed. Murtagh had been in Ellesmera after Arya had summoned him, wanting to talk. And it turned out that this is why she had summoned him, to talk about the state of the riders. They were currently walking outside under the trees and Murtagh, who had been extra emotional lately, had stopped to snap at her even though he was well aware of the fact that it could make him enemies with who he had once hoped would be his sister in law.

Arya turned around to face him, no emotion on her face. Then she answered firmly, "Because, Eragon is not here and so the riders fall to you. You were the next in command."

"Were?" Murtagh asked incredulously. He hated what she was implying and he began trembling in anger. "If it's so much to you, why don't you take temporary control until Eragon comes back?"

At this point the elf queen was watching him closely and Murtagh could tell the queen thought he was in denial. But luckily she decided to skirt the issue for now. "For one, by virtue that Thorn hatched before Firnen, you are senior in the riders to me. It is not just your right, Murtagh. It's your _**duty**_."

She hesitated for a minute. "Besides, the riders aren't supposed to be biased, and seeing as I'm the elven queen, if I take over, then it would put things in an unfair advantage for the elves. We've just gotten over war. We don't need more friction."

Murtagh snorted and folded his arms. "They'll never accept me even as a temporary leader. Not since I'm Morzan's son, and not after what I did." He was trying to find excuses at this point. Anything to avoid him admitting that Eragon was dead.

To his surprise, though, Arya merely raised her eyebrows. "You really don't see yourself as you actually are, do you? You're a natural leader, and already most everyone is over what happened. The past is the past. They will follow you, and they do follow you."

"Only because of Eragon," was his reply. "And they have no reason to other than blood relation."

Arya sighed once more as he made things even more difficult. "That's not true. You've been behind some ingenious ideas."

"But I'm Morzan's son. They'll never follow me. Besides, I'm still recovering from what Galbatorix did to me."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Now your just making excuses. And if you're worried about resistance, don't worry. It happens to every leader especially when a new leader takes over the dragon riders. You'll just be one of many to experience it. Some people loathe change."

Having run out of excuses, Murtagh decided to try a different path. "And if I refuse?" he challenged. "I'm already dealing with the dragon riders as a faithful second in command."

"And it's not the same," Arya told him. "And if you refuse, I'll make it official on my part and tell everyone you're the leader of the riders." She stared at him in challenge as Murtagh's demeanor changed to horror.

"You have no right!" he hissed, pointing a finger at her, loosing it. "That can only be between the riders!"

"And I am a rider," she replied firmly.

"But you just declared yourself the elven queen before!"

"And?" Her eyebrows were raised.

At what he viewed to be callousness to the situation, Murtagh began shaking. "Don't you care?" he accused her. "The one you love had disappeared! And yet you stand here acting as if it's nothing! I thought you _**loved**_ him!" And with that he whipped around calling to Thorn so that that they could leave. But not before Arya caught up with him and spun him around, holding him a harsh grip.

Her eyes were furious. "Don't you _**ever**_ accuse me of not caring for Eragon!" she hissed and released him with some disgust in her voice, shoving him away from her. "You know nothing!" she told him, her eyes full of pain. "You know nothing about me and Eragon! I care more than you realize! And this whole situation isn't just about you, you know! You have a duty! So do it!"

The very venom in her voice made Murtagh realize that he had gone too far. He trembled slightly, knowing his emotions had gotten the better of him. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered, in shock. "I shouldn't have said it. I-I just can't declare Eragon dead. I can't!"

And with that, Arya nodded, compassion back in her eyes. "I understand," she whispered. "More than you know." With that she made to walk away, but not without turning back. "Declare yourself leader of the riders, for everyone's sake. But you don't have to declare Eragon dead. You can still keep searching for him, you know. I am. And if he comes back, of course he should be leader of the riders since it's his right. But for now we need something more permanent in his absence. It's not the end of the world."

And with that she'd left Murtagh standing there in shock until Thorn picked him up. And with hesitation, and with her pushing him a few more times, he did as he asked, and the riders made him their leader.

With that came the prerogatives of living in the head chambers where the lead rider would sleep. It was in the castle that the riders had built for the riders and was in the same wing where the elder riders stayed, and where Arya would have stayed if she was there.

But Murtagh hadn't been able to bring himself to do it, and nobody mentioned to him about the fact that he was still staying in the second in command headquarters, even though it was expected of him to move into the chambers of the leader. They didn't have the heart to. And so they'd kept it quite that Murtagh was still sleeping in the chambers of the second in command.

It was in these chambers, painted red after his dragon and with red hangings, that he'd awakened from the tapping on the door. And he was still tired. But he had a duty to do, and so he opened the door. "Yes?" he asked quietly, softly as he looked at a female human rider that was standing at attention.

"I have the reports you asked for," she told him and Murtagh nodded. He was still having the riders search for Eragon and even though many thought it was pointless they complied, knowing that Murtagh needed it for his sanity's sake.

It had been too much for him to take up the mantle of the leader of the riders officially, especially since he was still recovering from what Galbatorix had done to him. He was overwhelmed by everything and the recent events. It was too soon for anything to happen, too soon. He was in denial and shock from it on top of his other griefs.

And what was worse was that the bad memories of those times with Galbatorix were being reawakened from his grief over Eragon. He was struggling terribly. But he was at least thankful that there was much of that time he couldn't remember as he was having trouble coping as it was. But the grief was still there and in full force, even over what he didn't remember, and his grief over Eragon was added to it.

She handed him a scroll and Murtagh took it gratefully before retiring again to his chambers. He read it over carefully but was not surprised when it said that nothing had been turned up in the search.

Holding the scroll to his chest, he collapsed onto his bed once again and was surprised when tears came silently down his cheeks. He'd never cried over Eragon until now. Before he'd been able to compose his emotions, and he'd considered crying something that weakened him. But now he couldn't hold the tears back and he realized that he needed time to grieve desperately. And so he didn't stop the tears. He let them come.

Calling out to the woman who'd delivered him the report, using mental communication, he told them not to disturb him for anything for a couple of days, even during an emergency. 'I-I just need time to myself... time to grieve.' If anything happened, they'd have to figure it out for themselves. Murtagh was worn out.

She acknowledged back through the link and never said anything back but he knew that she understood and had compassion on him. And thus he went back to weeping, curling up on his bed. He wept for everything he'd gone through; his abuse as a youth by the hands of his father, his feeling of abandonment by his mother.

He grieved over his feeling of abandonment when Eragon never came for him and he was forced to face Galbatorix alone. He wept over his kidnapping and subsequent brainwashing. He shed tears over his feeling of guilt over everything that had happened and being used as a tool, even though he knew it wasn't his fault, his guilt over Thorn having to go through it with him, And... and he wept over Eragon's disappearance.

The tears flowed freely and for once he felt some relief. He trusted the others to leave him be for now for they knew that he needed a chance to process his grief. He'd delayed too long already. They understood. And quite frankly, it felt good to grieve. He was surprised at how good it felt. It as comforting. It helped him cope and he was in amazement at that.

'Murtagh,' his dragon sighed through the leak and compassion was leaked through their bond for which the young man was grateful for. The tears flowed more rapidly now and he brought his knees to his chest in an attempt to comfort himself as he lay on his side. Now he looked small in comparison to his large bed, and that's how he felt, small.

'You're not small,' Thorn reassured him. 'And you have a good heart. Never forget that.' And with that Murtagh noticed that Thorn's own grieving process was ignited and he realized that his own dragon had been delaying his grieving to. He'd been so caught up in everything that he'd forgotten Thorn's own emotional needs for the past few months, and he felt guilty about that.

'Don't worry about it,' Thorn replied and Murtagh thought he was crying on the other end, grieving over Saphira. And it was then that Murtagh realized that Thorn had wanted to go through this together. They needed each other.

And that was fine with Murtagh. In a selfish kind of way, Murtagh was glad that he'd waited so that they could jointly grieve over their friends and help each other through this hard time. After all, Thorn and Saphira had become good friends. It had hit him hard as well. They were family, the four of them.

And so the tears flowed and for once Murtagh found that it wasn't weakness to cry and grieve. It was strength. It was very comforting.

He wept more. Finally, he cried until he was ready to sleep.

Murtagh was tired now. The emotions had taken their toll on him, but it was needful. "Eragon?" he whispered aloud to himself, the agony, desperation, and need still in his voice.

"Eragon, where are you?"

(Eragon Point of View)

Eragon shoved the dead deer off of him. He'd gotten better at hunting over the past few months, and to his relief he no longer had those bright red eyes. They'd calmed down slightly, looking more golden, last time he'd looked in the river.

Finding clothes after his first hunt had been difficult. The truth is, he had stolen them. And being so near the humans had been difficult. He was luckily that he'd come across the clothing hanging outside and that the humans hadn't been too close. He hadn't been sure that he'd been able to resist if that were the case.

But he'd stayed away from humans since then. And fortunately his next hunt had been better and he hadn't destroyed his clothes, as badly that is. Fortunately, he had stolen quite a few extra clothes after he'd realized the state of his first ones. And he was thankfully learning quickly. Maybe that was because he was a hunter in his previous life, so those instincts had been heightened and came easier to him. But he wasn't going to dwell on it.

Another thing Eragon was grateful for was that all his changes of clothes no longer smelled human. They'd taken on his vampire scent a long while ago, to which he was grateful. They human smell had made him uncomfortable and almost made him want to hunt. He'd calmed down now that they'd stopped smelling like that.

As Eragon buried the deer he sniffed the air, as was his custom. He wanted to make sure that he wasn't in any danger, or that's what his instincts told him. But so far he'd had yet to come across anything. Not even dragons could harm him. Perhaps another one of his kind could, but he hadn't seen any yet. That made him uncomfortable. How many of them were there?

Eragon knew nothing of what he was let alone what he was called, and that made him frightened. He was practically going through this alone and without guidance. There was no one to mentor him and tell him about things. He was a loner in a strange world.

Well, almost abandoned that is. His faithful Saphira was ever by his side.

His first encounter with Saphira after his changing had been frightening and embarrassing. Saphira had been acting concerned about him, but the moment she set down and her scent hit him, he was embarrassed to say that he lost control and attacked her. And her struggling against him were useless. And she'd cried out to him, but he hadn't been able to hear, his animal mind in control at that time.

But as fast as it had happened it had stopped for he immediately felt her pain, and his "human" senses came back. Her pain was his pain, and since becoming whatever he was the bond was heightened in ways he never knew. And so he'd finally gained enough control to stop and assess the damage he'd done.

He felt guilty over it. He hadn't meant it, and though Saphira commented later that she had somewhat of an understanding, able to see his mind, even if she couldn't understand completely, he still felt guilty. He'd hurt his Saphira, even if it was by accident, something he had promised never to do. After the venom which was put in her system had stopped flowing, and he was sure she was fine, he'd grieved. Even his venom had caused her pain.

For some reason after that, he never was triggered to go hunting her after that, almost like his subconscious had locked it out. It was probably because of the bond he guessed, because his animal instincts must have registered her to be him or something like that, because he had felt her pain. And thus it had learned instinctually never to do that again. But he couldn't say the same about other dragons, however. He'd come close to killing several. After that they'd fled when he was having trouble controlling himself.

By now Saphira had learned not to be near him when he was hunting or after he'd come back from a hunting trip for her own safety even though it was doubtful that he'd be able to harm her again by hunting her. But neither of them wanted to chance it. Her first contact with him after his change had decided that for the both of them.

After the change they'd both caught up with what happened to the both of them. And it was strange experiences indeed. Eragon had gone first as he had a lot to answer for, even though Saphira didn't blame him as she knew something was wrong. But it was an unspoken agreement. Then Saphira had told her tale.

She'd been gone for some time when pain hit her, and she realized that it was his pain. Then she'd felt the pain that he must have felt when the creature was feeding on him, excruciating pain. And then the bond was snapped as he died. She'd been there in a state of shock and grief, not sure how to respond, silently weeping him and in rage. Then, oddly enough, a couple of hours later the bond had reignited again and she was in the most extreme pain that she'd ever been in, the pain increasing.

When it stopped, she was sure that something was different about the bond. For one their bond was stronger (even Eragon had noticed it, he just hadn't been consciously aware of it as he'd other issues at the time). That and their bond felt different. It now felt almost eternal and infinite.

That and she could tell that he was different, no longer human, even though she didn't know what he was. She could feel how feral he felt and the burning ache in his throat, and immediately set off to find him.

That was when she noticed that she was faster and stronger, and her body was also more like armor now, more than ever before. She also had heightened senses.

When she'd found him and he'd accidentally bit her, the venom had somehow increased her strength and every other trait she'd gained since waking up, though she doubted that it would do that for any other non bonded dragon. She was sure it was because of the bond that she's survived the venom, or whatever it was. No non bonded dragon would have that advantage.

And yet despite all that, Eragon was stronger than her and faster than her, having better everything, even when she was using her top speed and top strength in the air. In fact, he would often run while she flew, and she would always beg him to slow down for her, at which he would chuckle in amusement through their bond. Yes, there were some good things about this change. Some.

She also found herself relying on his eyes and others senses and instincts as they were stronger. He could even see with perfect clarity in the night time, something she didn't have.

To Eragon it was amusing as it was a flop from the way it had been before. She was annoyed at this and how he would tease her for it. Before he had been weaker, his senses had been weaker, and she had been easily able to pin him to the ground.

Now he could pin her to the ground and keep her there as long he liked. And he had done that before in a playful way, being careful with her as to not harm her as she was fragile compared to him. He was cautious since even he could easily pierce through her new found "armor" with his teeth and bare hands.

According to Eragon, it was playfully getting back for all the times she had pinned him to the ground something she was annoyingly regretting. But in actuality, they both knew it was because Eragon needed the humor to cope with his new found change in life. He was having a hard time handling it as it was.

Despite that one incident, they hadn't come across any other beings like Eragon. There simply didn't seem to be any around. And Eragon was lonely that he couldn't find more, even if they were cold hearted killers like the woman he had come across. He desperately needed some questions answered, as did Saphira. For one, what had happened to him? What was he?

Even with how slow Saphira was, they made really good time. She was now the fastest dragon on earth. Eragon still rode her occasionally, at her insistence, but he preferred running. To him Saphira was slow but his speed was exhilarating. Nonetheless, he respected her needs, her feelings, and her wishes. He would grant her a ride when she wanted one.

After Eragon was finished burying the deer he ran off once again. 'Saphira,' he called out with his mind. 'I'm done!'

Immediately he felt her flying towards him. Another unique thing about their bond was that they always knew where each other was now. Also, he seemed to be immune to magic or rather like it didn't exist for him, so for Saphira to communicate with him she had to project her thoughts out loud like she was speaking out loud.

She could no longer speak to him in his mind, though he could do so to her. That meant that anyone who was capable of mind speak would be able to hear them communicate. It also meant less privacy in a way. And so they'd come up with code words and phrases that only the both of them knew the meaning of so that the could have some semblance of privacy in case they ever encountered some mind speaking company.

But it was unusual that magic didn't exist for Eragon but he could still use it. He wondered why that was. It was nice that he was now immune to magical attacks, and at the same time his magic was the most powerful it had ever been and ever increasing, but when he reached to feel if it was there, it simply wasn't there. But if he used spells out of instinct it would happen.

It was odd and Saphira was practically going through the same thing magic wise, so she understood what Eragon was talking about, and why they could use magic when magic didn't exist for them and they were immune to it.

After all, how could he have seemingly no magic existing inside him and still be able to use magic? It was like it wasn't coming from him anymore, but created, but only when he thought about it. And he still was immune even when he did use it. It was like it was created in front of him, but not from his surroundings, like it was willed into existence away from him by his mind, seeing as it couldn't be willed near him or around him due to his immunity.

And so he'd had to retrain, but he was learning quickly. That also meant that long distance spells were no longer a problem for him. He also had no limits and he couldn't die from it plus it was increasing and getting ever more powerful with time. Could that be because he was dead?

That was another thing. He honestly didn't know if he was dead or alive. There was no doubt he had _**been**_ dead when his neck was painfully snapped, but his heart had restarted. And even though it had stopped again, he was moving around and breathing like someone that was alive. Wasn't that the definition of alive? That and his bond with Saphira was still there.

Saphira seemed to think of him as somewhere in between. Eragon called himself the walking dead because that was the best he could classify himself as. But for all intents and purposes, he _**should**_ be dead. His neck had been snapped, and he had no beating heart. But he continued to exist.

'But regardless, I'm glad that you're still around,' Saphira had told him. And strangely enough, with everything he had gone through, he was glad that he was still around to.

Eragon returned from his thoughts and ran to a clearing, rejoicing when he saw Saphira in the distance. No doubt she hadn't seen him yet. But it was not long before she landed. He watched her graceful landing in such detail as he would never have been able to observe before his changing. He saw the way her wings subtly shifted to one side and the other, the slight twisting of them. He saw her muscles bunch as she landed and heard as the wind whisked past her wings and the ground shifted.

He heard everything in perfect clarity. He even observed the changes in the scent in the air as wind was pushed towards him. That was besides her new scent, of course.

He sighed. After he'd awakened and first seen her, it was like he'd never seen her before. And she was beautiful, particularly the way her scales sparkled. He'd even shown her what he'd seen.

For once she wasn't vain about herself. She'd teased him about how he sparkled like a diamond.

'My little diamond,' she nicknamed him despite his protests, and the name had stuck, unfortunately. He hadn't been able to get her to give him a different nickname.

"Why not use my old nickname?" he'd once asked her.

'Because I like this one better,' she'd smugly informed him, and he was sure that she was smirking, if that was a dragon's smirk that was. Eventually he'd let it go. He wasn't going to win the argument, no matter how hard he tried. And it wasn't worth it it, even if it was annoying.

Saphira motioned with her head towards her back where the saddle was already in place and Eragon understood her unspoken communication. She wanted him to rider her. And so, with out any hesitation, he lightly leaped on with his his new found speed and agility. She took off a short time later, after having squatted down. Then she leaped into the air and Eragon could hear how the air whistled around the both of them, especially her wings as she moved them up and down.

Using his new sight he looked far below him. They were well outside Alagaesia. But that didn't matter since for him it wasn't that far a run to Alagaesia. If he were to measure the distance of where the riders had settled and the space they and the dragons occupied, then go to the far side of Alagaesia, and the double that distance, it was a distance he could run in about an hour and half. While it took Saphira longer to fly that distance, with her new found strength and speed she could easily manage it within half a day. For them the distance was nothing.

Concentrating on his senses, Eragon felt as the wind whipped past him. Saphira was flying at speeds that would have been dangerous to a normal rider, but he was not normal. Plus the speed would have been too much for an ordinary dragon to handle. And they wouldn't have had the agility that she had. Their wings would have been torn apart at this speed.

They were high up, circling, when Eragon decided to jump. The speed at jumping was to slow for him. He could easily run faster than his terminal velocity. He looked up and saw Saphira growl at him in agitation and chuckled, the ground coming closer inch by inch it seemed.

Finally his feet touched ground and he was careful to land as delicately as possible so as not to create a crater of sorts, too easy for him to do. And then he was off, at a "slow" speed for Saphira's sake so that she could keep up. And she did.

Flying low, she swooped down and Eragon sighed, knowing what she wanted. He easily leaped the distant height onto her back and they were off in flight once more.

In was exhilarating for him, and for Saphira to, to move at these new speeds. Their ease of navigating and agility was also incredible.

'Where to?' Saphira thought aloud to him and Eragon frowned. He preferred the wild lands so that he didn't accidentally harm anyone. It would be too much for him to bear if he accidentally killed a dragon, human, dwarf, urgal, elf, or anyone intelligent for that matter. And so, he was always moving away from Alagaesia so as not to be tempted to return.

"Further north," he said aloud to her. It was more cloudless up north and so there was less likely a chance that Saphira would comment how he sparkled like a diamond in the sunlight. Those comments annoyed him because it only served to push home even further that he wasn't human anymore. He still mourned his loss of his humanity. In many ways he would give anything to be human again.

Saphira aligned her direction northward and with that Eragon sighed, sat back, and enjoyed the flight. For a while he was motionless, much like a statue, and the rocking of Saphira's flight didn't even serve to affect him any.

Not long later they sat down and Saphira laid down on the soft grass. Nestling beside her, Eragon became still once more, gazing at the horizon, choosing not to think about anything. He breathed evenly, Saphira's scent all around him. He was well aware of when she shuffled occasionally to get more comfortable. But as a vampire he had no need to move.

How long they stayed there like that, grieving the turn of things almost, they didn't know. But finally Eragon wanted to break the silence. "I want to find more like me, Saphira," he told her, glancing back at her. "I'm lonely."

It was already bad enough that he might never see his friends and family again due to how dangerous he was. But at least it was comforting that he was having trouble recalling those memories and that they were fading. He didn't know if he would be able to cope otherwise.

It was the same with Saphira. The memories of their past fragile selves were like a dream, and there were times when both wondered if it had even existed to begin with. And it was like how childhood memories fade and aren't really remembered, except on a larger scale. That was how those memories were fading. And given enough time Eragon was sure they would fade completely.

In fact he speculated that soon it would be completely gone due to it's insignificance, unless he kept bringing the memories up. And since he was choosing not to bring the memories up, that would mean that it would fade to where he couldn't even really decipher them anymore.

Already he was having trouble remembering his family. Did he have one brother or two? Or were they cousins? He even had trouble recalling their names. The only real human memory he could remember with clarity was the burning as he turned. And yet his new life gave him perfect recall from the moment he woke up. It wasn't fair!

'I know,' she told him. 'Life isn't fair to us.'

'It isn't fair to anyone,' Eragon pouted, watching as a distant cloud streaked across the sky. He knew he'd participated in battles as a human, but other than that the details were sketchy, and even then he had trouble recalling the battles in even a fuzzy form of detail.

"What do you think it was like?" he finally asked aloud. "How many friends did we have? Of the ones that I can barely recall, were they all of them, or only a handful of friends that we had?"

'Who knows,' Saphira mused. 'Which is why it's possibly best to move on, not to dwell on the past and what we can't have.'

"And how many of my kind are there?" Eragon mused. That was another thing. He always said 'my kind', never connoting his human past. It was like the human past was insignificant. "And where can I find others like me?"

'I wish I knew,' Saphira confessed. 'I wonder if there are other dragons bonded to those like you, and what they are like.'

"Me to," he whispered, barely audible to Saphira and yet quite audible to him. He took in a deep breath, relaxing as many scents reached him. "I am so lonely. And yet I am lucky to have you, for if I were truly alone... I do not know what would become of me."

'We are in this together,' Saphira reassured him and he was able to find comfort in it. In the end he wasn't alone.

Suddenly, the wind direction changed and an odd scent reached Eragon's nose. In an instant he was in a defensive crouch, growling. He didn't recognize the scent. And for some reason he felt threatened, which was odd since he wasn't aware of anything but another one of his kind that could harm him. He stayed still, listening, but nothing was heard.

"Saphira, get in the air," he commanded, concerned for her safety, for until he knew what it was and whether or not it was a danger he wasn't taking any chances when it came to her. Out of the two of them, even with her enhanced endurance she was still significantly more vulnerable than him.

Saphira was hesitant, startled by his reaction and frozen in shock, as if she didn't know what to make of the situation. It took less than a fraction of a second to realize that Saphira must not have smelled the scent. It must have been too far away for her to smell, and her nose was not as good as his.

Once upon a time it was a different story, back when he was human and the roles were reversed, but not anymore. And to the boy's frustration Saphira merely stood instead of complying, even though Eragon was crouched protectively in front of her, almost challenging anyone to attempt to harm her.

'Eragon, what is it?' she thought aloud for his benefit and Eragon growled once more.

It took him a moment to calm his instincts down and he turned back to her while keeping his other senses and his peripheral vision attuned to notice any danger that should attempt to harm them. "I smell an unusual scent, one I've never come across before," Eragon explained.

After this comment his beautiful dragon sniffed the air, trying to see what he had smelled. But she found nothing. "It may be beyond what your senses can detect," Eragon suggested. "It's still a long way out, but my senses never mistake."

The dragon nodded. 'That doesn't mean that it's dangerous. After all, what could possibly stand against you? You're practically indestructible.'

"I don't know!" Eragon snarled back, upset that she wasn't listening. "But all I know is that my instinct are screaming 'danger' and I trust my instincts!"

With that Saphira sighed and then took off into the air. "Stay in the air until I give the clear!" Eragon shouted to her in a range that he knew she would be able to hear him. And with that he slowly made his way towards the area where the smell was coming from, immediately wary of any potential danger that he could find. He wasn't taking any chances for himself either.

Not long later, he found the area and a trail that had the scent, Saphira high above him. Taking in a deep whiff, the potent smell filled his mouth and nostrils again, and like before it screamed danger. It also was offensive to him, something he had immediately noticed the first time he smelled it, almost like a wet dog smell. If he was human, he would be barfing from the scent.

To his frustration, Saphira landed, giving a slight thump on the ground. Then she to took a sniff of the area and was shocked at what she found. Eragon watched her was warily, annoyed that she was putting herself in danger despite his instructions. After all if it came to a fight with whatever it was, she would definitely be dead where as he would stand a chance at surviving.

Her nose scrunched slightly form the smell. 'Ugh! Wet dog!'

"Or so it seems," Eragon cast her a glance. Then he sighed. "Saphira, why didn't you stay in the air like I asked?" And he gave her a pointed glare.

The dragon looked at him incredulously. 'Well I couldn't very well just fly by and leave you down here when you said there may be danger, now could I?'

"Yes!" Eragon growled at her and toned it down when he noticed her fright and subsequently felt it. She hadn't been frightened of him since he accidentally attacked her and began feeding on her, and he never wanted to see his precious dragon afraid of him. It pained him emotionally.

The boy decided to change tones in order to get it through to her and he was left wondering if she had done this to him as a human, making him see reason. But if she did, he could no longer remember. But that was besides the point.

"Saphira," he pled. "Your fragile compared to me and I may not always be able to protect you as I can protect myself, especially if there are multiple attackers. You need to understand that. You can get hurt, whereas there is less likely a chance that I would be hurt in such a conflict!"

And the great dragon sighed. 'But we are bonded, Eragon. I may not remember how, but I know this much from my instincts, and I know you do from your instincts as well. What frightens you frightens me. I can feel your fear. I want to be by your side no matter what.'

Eragon lifted an eyebrow then replied, "Even though I would probably make it out unscathed where as you would be severely hurt as a minimum, more than likely killed?"

And with that assumption Saphira growled even though she knew it was true. She brought her head to tower proudly above him. 'Yes!' she proudly declared and Eragon sighed, knowing that she wasn't going to change her mind. He could only hope that he could protect her from whatever had caused his instincts to go in the preservation mode.

With that he turned back to the strange smell that had caught his attention, the one Saphira hadn't been able to smell until she landed. He himself had not noticed the smell until the direction of the wind had changed due to how far away it was. Granted, no animal would have been able to smell it at that distance either.

The only reason he could smell it was due to his heightened senses. Even Saphira, with her heightened senses would have smelled it at a farther range than an ordinary dragon or animal, but nowhere near as far away as he could.

"So odd," Eragon mused aloud, following the trail cautiously. The main scent of the wet dogs was there, and yet he could smell the individual scents, four in total. Following where they were going he made sure to got at a pace that Saphira could keep up with, a pace that no normal dragon would have been able to go. But with Saphira's heightened strength and speed, she was able to follow.

'I wonder what it is?' Saphira wondered aloud and Eragon shrugged. Whatever these creatures were, they were able to move at the speed his kind moved at, if he guessed correctly. The scent extended for miles, and yet it was just as fresh as the scent many miles back, something no normal animal would be able to do. That made him wonder what these things were capable of. But despite that he found no footprints almost as if they were careful to leave none. Could these things be intelligent?

"Saphira," Eragon informed her. "I can investigate this faster if you go into the air. But at this rate my tracking of them is not going to do much good. Not with this speed."

With an annoyed mental sigh Saphira rose into the air, letting Eragon pick up his pace. He traced it many miles further, all going towards the north, when suddenly he stopped. An even bigger pack of dogs had been in this area. They had joined with the group Eragon was tracking going north together and now the wet dog scents numbered ten.

That wasn't the only thing that bothered him. In this area it became evident that there were many day old smells of wet dogs, as if they traversed this path frequently.

'What is it?' Saphira asked him and Eragon relayed the information he had gained him. And though he hadn't come across any footprints, Eragon could tell from smelling where the feet of the individual hounds had been, and how far apart they were, that they were massive.

At this Saphira was definitely worried. A pack of wolves that size and with that speed, not including the amount of strength they probably possessed would have overwhelmed her if she was on the ground and it came to a fight. And that was with her new enhancements. They both knew it.

Admittedly, it irked Eragon that only now she was taking her safety into consideration. "Oh so now you're afraid?" he snapped at her, the worry of the situation getting to him.

But she didn't snap back. 'Eragon, be careful!' were her words of caution and Eragon sent acknowledgments back. No doubt a group of ten strong mutts would be too much for him. But then another thought occurred to him. Would they even be able to pierce his indestructible hide? It was quite solid and hard. But he didn't want to take any chances.

"Saphira," he commanded. "Fly far way from here, where they wouldn't even be able to see and hear you, or smell you. I'll take it from here."

'But-!' Saphira protested and Eragon shook his head.

'I'm indestructible, remember?' he reassured her weakly even though he was beginning to wonder if he had possibly met his match. But regardless, he was relieved when she obeyed him. The fear might have gotten to her, and though she didn't like him in danger, she knew by now that he would stand a much better chance than she would.

Eragon watched Saphira sail off in the sky, and when he was satisfied that she was far enough away he began pursuing the scent further, his curiosity getting the better of him. Even though his instincts screamed at him to run, he still wanted to know what on earth this scent belonged to.

An hour later, Eragon tracked the scent through trees and into a forest as well as another familiar scent. He had suspicions, but he was determined not to believe until he saw with his own eyes. He didn't want to be disappointed. Sniffing it, he noticed that the scent here was strong. A clearing was in the distance that the creatures had no doubt crossed and he ran to the clearing of trees, only to freeze in shock and curiosity. He was right!

Her scent reached his nose easily despite the wind blowing away and the clearing was no clearing at all as there were no trees in the distance. A growl had reached him well before he reached the clearing, a growl where his kind is protecting their prey. And yet Eragon had still traversed forward, wanting to see if there really was another like him.

Once more she growled at him to stay back, and Eragon backed up a few yards, respecting her space. She was crouched on top of a mountain lion, drinking it's blood, and her golden eyes were on him as if wondering if he was going to attempt to steal her prey. Despite his instincts to crouch down and protect himself, Eragon forced himself to remain standing and in a casual manner that would portray that he meant her no harm. And yet her eyes were still on him, watching him carefully.

She was easily beautiful, even for a vampire, her hair tied in a french roll, a style he'd never seen and didn't know what it was called. The long, flowing black dress complimented her. Around her neck was a necklace with an odd symbol on it. She seemed almost like the age of a seventeen year old, frozen in that year.

When she was done she stood upright, watching him, no longer taking note of her prey, stalk still. Eragon decided to break the silence for them.

"Wow! You're like me!" he exclaimed in excitement. Maybe now he would finally have his questions answered. Perhaps she could tell him what he had become?

But instead, she narrowed her eyes at him, and Eragon began to wonder if this was going to be a one way conversation. So he decided to try a different approach.

"What is your name?" Eragon asked, attempting to keep the elation out of his voice.

The woman considered him carefully, as if deciding whether or not she would answer. But finally she did.

"Jane."

**Alright, so that's my first chapter. Don't worry, all the oddities will be explained. **

**And for the record in regards to Jane, I'm going with the book Jane, but I'm using the looks and age from the movies.**

**On other business, I have a proposal. **

**So yeah, Eragon has had to move on from Arya, but may not exactly be over her. That said, Jane will be somewhat of a new interest for him and he is going to develop feelings for her. **

**At some point I'm going to have Arya and Jane clash, partly because they don't like each other, partly because they both like the same guy (Eragon), and partly because Eragon is sort of going to flit back and forth between the two of them, unfortunately. So because of that, it causes even more friction between Arya and Jane, as well as jealousy. **

**But in the end, the flitting will stop, and he's going to have a permanent pairing. I'm putting it to a vote, but I may not use the vote; it all depends are where the story goes. But then again I may. **

**So, what's your choice? Should Eragon end up with either Arya or Jane? For now I've decided will be two times to vote, one now and one later on once the novel's really progressed.**

**I'll be fair and put down reasons for both of them as to why it should be and why it shouldn't be. (Warning, plot spoilers, but not too much!)**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Reason's for Eragon to be with Arya:<strong>_

**Let's face it, she was his first love! And though it took her a while to admit it, she did in the end at least return the affections. That, and she's beautiful in her own way, but more importantly she's a strong woman and a strong leader. In many ways she's the face of wisdom and reason. **

**She has always had a kind heart, unlike Jane. She would be capable of bringing out the best in Eragon, as well as council him in regards to situations that come up. **

**She's also seen a lot, and while not as much as Jane, she's seen enough to navigate life with prudence. That, and though Edward was breaking the rules by exposing what he was to Bella, it worked out in the end even with the trials.**

_**Reasons for Eragon to be with Jane:**_**  
><strong>

**For one, she's like him, a vampire. Eragon would be at no risk of harming her, quite the opposite in fact, even with his newborn strength. That, and she would be able to teach him about this new life. **

**And for one, his love for her would be more genuine. Crushes come instantaneously, but true love develops over time and joint experiences, which will be the case between them. Plus, she's much older than Arya and has seen much more, which means she'll have more wisdom. **

**Whereas Arya couldn't protect Eragon, she could, and she could teach him how to protect himself in this new life. Also she would be able to understand and relate what he's going through as a newborn. That, and Eragon softens her up immensely and brings out a softer side of her never before seen. They also work very well together.**

_**Reasons against Eragon being with Arya:**_**  
><strong>

**For one, it would be too easy for him to hurt her, even accidentally. His affections for her were instantaneous, more of a crush. She also causes a lot of drama between them. **

**She wouldn't be able to help defend him, rather she would be the one defenseless. That, and she wouldn't be able to help him navigate this new life or even give him advice in regards to it as she's never gone through it. **

**Plus there's the social barriers. She's the queen of the elves, and he's the leader of the riders. If he's with her, he's showing bias in favor of the elves, something that couldn't happen if he was with Jane. **

**Also the vampires have rules that prohibit extensive interactions with humans, elves, urgals, dwarves, etc. There's a law against exposing themselves, and he would be breaking it if he were to be with her, causing all sorts of complications. That and she's too old for him, (both of them really).**

_**Reasons against Eragon being with Jane:**_

**She may drink animal blood now, but she has killed humans in the past, and not just for feeding either. Though she's more controlled and calm with her emotions, she does still occasionally have a sadistic side. **

**She views the world somewhat differently from Eragon due to the things she's seen in her many years, and like Arya, she's too old for him. But her age difference is more massive than Eragon's age difference with Arya as she's older than Alagaesia itself. **

**She's also an enforcer of the law, so if Eragon does break the rules, she'll be required to punish him even if she doesn't want to. **

**She also lacks patience at times. At first she's very annoyed with him and considers him a nuisance, not paying him much attention other than what is needed. And while she's changed and isn't as sadistic anymore, she still harbors hatred towards humans, and well, anything that isn't indestructible like them. **

**That means that dragons (though she's tolerant of Saphira), elves, dwarves, urgals, and other creatures are in the category of the humans. And while she may not kill humans anymore, she's apathetic towards them. For instance, there was one time she noticed a dying human, and while she could save her and didn't kill her, she merely turned on her heel and walked away, considering the human a "petty nuisance not worth a vampire's time". **

**Over time that softens up though, with Eragon's influence. **

**Also, Alec doesn't like Eragon near Jane after he notices the he has feelings for her.**

* * *

><p><strong>That's it! I'll put a poll and let you cast your vote! It'll be "preferred final pairing". <strong>

**Feel free to check out my other stories, too!**

**Firestar'sniece**


	2. Chapter 2: Unneeded Complications

**I don't own Inheritance Cycle or Twilight.**

Chapter Two: Unneeded Complications

(Jane Point of View)

Jane's day had been going perfectly. Note the sarcasm. That was until meal time.

Due to the fact that there were so many things to do, they'd had to find time to hunt in their spare time. She'd easily caught a bear, thinking all was well, when she picked up the scent of another of her kind as she was feeding on the mountain lion. She only hoped it wasn't one of those trouble makers that they'd had to deal with lately, though she didn't recognize the scent. Or it was possible that they had created a newborn as this one smelled rather young.

Not willing to share her prey and becoming irritable at the interruptions, she growled at the stranger. But he stupidly approached her anyways and so she sent another warning growl at him. Only then did he stop and observe her as she had her meal. And she never let her eyes leave him, her instincts telling her to be cautious of this new stranger. And time told her to trust her instincts for they had saved her more times than she dared to admit.

She couldn't help but note that the stranger seemed elated, almost excited at her presence. Offhandedly, Jane wondered why that was, but she had better things to occupy her mind with at the moment, like the newborn in their territory. But at least from the color of his eyes, he might be less inclined to aggression.

The stranger's excitement seemed almost ready to burst and he finally announced when she was done with the mountain lion, "Wow! You're like me!"

Jane was surprised at this, though her features remained composed, not giving away her thoughts. This newborn acted like he had never seen another of his kind before, and that only disturbed Jane. Without his creator to teach him, who knows how he would end up, even though it looked like he had managed so far on his own and come quite a long ways.

That, and he needed to learn the vampire laws. And if she were human she would have groaned for she realized that if he really didn't at least have a mentor then as a Volturi guard it would undoubtedly fall on her and the others to teach him. Yet another burden to add to her list of to dos.

Jane waited to see what the newborn would do. "What is your name?" the newborn asked and Jane thought it was a reasonable request. It wouldn't put her or her comrades or coven in danger. She took a little too long to deliberate the pros and cons of answering versus not answering.

"Jane," the young looking female vampire finally responded carefully, eyeing him to see how he would react. To her frustration, this only seemed to elate the male even more as it encouraged him that she was approachable for a conversation.

'Just my luck!' she thought. 'A hyperactive newborn! Ugh! What have I gotten myself into? Why me!' If there was any kind of vampire she hated it was annoying and chatty ones. She preferred just to get things done and over with.

But this didn't seem to deter the newborn, in fact the newborn seemed to ignore her facial expressions of frustration even though it was quite visible. "Jane," the newborn mulled, staring at her with fascination and like he'd never heard the name before. "What a pretty name!"

At this Jane was sickeningly horrified. Already this newborn was feeling a strange attachment to her, a fascination with her, one that meant he might develop a crush on her if he hadn't already. Because if she had learned anything about male vampires, fascination with a female associate usually led to a crush and Jane had no interest in taking a mate and settling down in marriage.

In fact, the last vampire to try to pursue her in this manner had been the annoying vampire-rider Eragon. And annoying he had been. He wouldn't stop pursuing her until finally she'd had to use her gift and intentionally drive him away. That annoying git!

This vampire also seemed to emanate rider qualities. She dared to chance it, not sure she wanted an answer, "By chance are you bonded to a dragon?" She tried to ask in an offhand way and groaned when the vampire looked surprised.

"Yes!" he replied excitedly and if he were a lesser being he would have stumbled. But vampires did not stumble. It was not possible for them.

'Dang!' Jane thought. Her day was just getting better and better. It was bad enough that the vampire/former elf had pursued her, and another vampire rider was already interested in her. "And your name?" she dared ask further.

"Eragon," came the reply.

At this she frowned and growled. Poor Eragon stepped away at her temperament with an expression of wondering how he had offended her. 'Of course it would be!' she thought with sarcasm. 'Why! Why on earth is my luck this bad today? First one rider named Eragon pursues me, and now luck states that I need another Eragon in my life!'

She could just imagine the look on Alec's face when she returned with a newborn that wasn't only a rider but named Eragon as well, and even worse had a fascination and infatuation with her. He would laugh for the next hour or so, as would all the others.

Already her mood was deteriorating. "What are you doing here?" she snapped at him and the newborn looked ready to crouch down in self defense. Normally she would have tempered herself better to prevent such a reaction from the other but right now in her sour mood she could hardly care. "Don't you know not to trespass in another coven's territory? Or attempt to hunt in it?"

A hiss escaped Eragon's throat. He seemed quite nervous. "I wasn't hunting!" he defended himself as Jane crouched down as well. "I was following the peculiar scent when I came across you!"

"Where's your creator?" Jane continued to interrogate harshly and at this she saw confusion on the others' face, confirming her previous suspicions. No one was raising this newborn.

"Creator?" the newborn replied, once more upright. Jane straightened as well, attempting to calm herself down. It would do no good unnerve this newborn any more than necessary.

A deep breath helped Jane relax only slightly as she tasted the air around her, making doubly sure that no other foreign vampire was in proximity. "Yes, your creator," she explained. "The one that turned you." And she carefully observed him as she waited for his answer.

The vampire shook his head, these terms obviously new to him. "I don't know," he admitted. From his expression Jane could tell that he was trying to see into his muddy human memories, or half human as he had elven/rider features. "I was attacked and in pain for a while. When I woke up, I was like this."

Jane nodded. There was only one thing left to do. Turning around and trusting that this newborn wouldn't attack her but would follow her out of curiosity, she commanded, "Come!" and led him away.

The newborn hesitated as Jane walked away and in an instant he was by her side. "Where are we going?" he asked her, the inquisition and excitement back in his voice. It was as if her previous hostilities to him had been forgotten, even though that wasn't possible due to vampires having perfect memories. And his bounciness irked Jane further as she tried to calm herself.

"To the others, newborn," Jane responded tightly, wanting the conversation to end and yet knowing he would ask more even questions.

"Newborn?" Eragon asked in puzzlement. It seemed odd that he was relaxed around her considering a few seconds ago. If he only knew what she was capable of... "Others?" Eragon inquired.

The elder vampire didn't even so much as glance at him. "You'll see," she promised with finality. "Newborn is what we call a newly created vampire like yourself."

"Vampire?" Eragon echoed, puzzled. Then he whispered to himself, "Vampire," rolling the word around on his tongue as it sunk it that that was what he now was. But it was also as if he'd never heard the term before, like it was a myth that he'd never encountered. And Jane wasn't surprised, considering the culture and that they probably didn't have very many accounts of them, at least not as much as the world she came from. That is, if they had any vampire myths at all.

And this caused Jane to nod. "Vampire," she confirmed. "Be on your best behavior as you meet the others, newborn."

For once the newborn was silent, though still staring at her curiously. Jane used this time to sift through her memories. She chose to ignore her human ones, painful as they were to her, and instead focused from the time she woke up to the present.

She remembered how she gained power withing the Volturi alongside her brother, and how they seemed unstoppable. Things were fine. Then Bella turned up.

For a long while, Jane resented her. Never before had her talent which she considered beautiful, been thwarted. And for a while she feared that she and Alec would be replaced as Aro's favorite. She knew how much he had coveted to have Bella's talent in his coven.

Seven years had passed, and rumors had run abroad. What was more was that the exposure of the Cullens to the vampire world had brought on a new age. Newer vampires with greater morals began pursuing their new diet. Still others tried what was deemed the "Cullen diet" as if it were what the humans called the "in thing". And most who gave it an honest try for some reason stuck with it no matter how difficult. For a while she hadn't understood, but she knew now the peace and calmness the diet could bring. But before she hadn't known that.

With more up and coming vampires trying this diet, and some old vampires, and most of the new generation trying it as word passed around quickly, a division amongst the vampires began taking place. In two hundred years the vegetarians numbered half of the vampires in existence, and fifty years after that and beyond they would hold a slight majority. But only by a slim margin. Such it had been to this day.

Another curiosity was Renesmee and Jacob Black. Somehow by marrying and having kids it had altered both races. Jane didn't give much thought on this now, but it still interested her and was a curious thing. For one, the packs began expanding and became a numerous people. After the fall of the nations, the Quileutes, being large in number now, had created an empire of sorts which Jacob, after much begging of his people, became emperor of. Now there were more packs than Jane dared count.

A new age was also ushered in by the marriage of Renesmee and Jacob. Ever since their first child a bond seemed to have formed between the Black pack and the Cullens. And from their the phenomenon spread. Whereas before the two species had once been enemies, but this had somehow quelled that, at least for the vegetarian vampires.

As more wolf packs came about and due to the nature of the change in the vampires and werewolves, and as more vegetarian covens popped up, the same phenomenon happened between those covens and the new packs. After all with the increase in packs that meant that the wolves had to spread out. The packs would bond to a coven, and the coven would bond to that pack in a remarkable way, forming what they called families. In fact it became terminology that a pack and coven bonded together were called families.

Indeed, it was curious the changes. No one had expected such a thing to occur. And the immortality of the two races only strengthened.

At first the Volturi had been alarmed at the changes and were unsure of how to handle it. In fact, there was panic amongst the guard. Slowly, with the newer members of the guard that had been created after the Volturi's incident with the Cullens, these newborns changed the coven in a remarkable way. For one, most of these newborns preferred the new Cullen diet.

Through them, and after a lot of persuasion, some members of the guard had curiously decided to try it out, though not all. And due to keeping the peace, the Volturi leaders had been compelled to let each individual decide for themselves.

Admittedly, Jane was not taken up with the change and the diet at first, nor was Alec. There was no way she was going to give up human blood! But after she and Alec lost a bet with a fellow vegan guard member, the price of it had been that they would be required to consistently apply the Cullen diet for ten years without accidents or breaking the diet.

It was frustrating. They would have gone to Aro and complained but he was already in a dither with the changes. Marcus had heard that the diet could calm one and help them, and seeking some relief he had adopted the new diet and was doing remarkably well with it.

Caius refused of course. Aro comprised and chose an off and on tactic, becoming what would later be refereed to as omnivorous, or those who had both animals and people for dinner. While nowhere near as calming as the pure vegan diet, it did tend to calm a vampire, although only marginally.

Knowing with the politics involved that it would be pointless to try to persuade Aro to get them out of it, and knowing that it would cause dissension and problems amongst the Volturi, Jane and Alec admitted that they were trapped and had no choice to follow through with the bet.

They grudgingly went along with it at first, but after a couple years they noticed the changes in themselves. Though they were still as irritable, it wasn't present as much and there was a calming nature about the diet. No more did she feel the need to fight over blood and her instincts were more tempered.

And to both her and her brothers' surprise, they actually found themselves enjoying it and the peace it brought them. They had not realized how much turmoil they were actually facing until they tried the diet. And so, enjoying the calm it brought them, they continued it even after the deadline.

For a couple more thousand years, the changes finally stabilized and they watched civilization after civilization fall. Then one of the vampires and his Quileute mate discovered how to cross worlds and it created a whole new string of problems.

It created a whole new string of problems like the one Jane was currently embroiled in. Not that all problems were bad. Even she acknowledged that some changes (which oftentimes created turmoil and trouble) were good. The hybrid's exposure and the Cullen diet were some of them.

Eragon followed her silently, and she observed that his instincts were sharp. She also knew that he desperately wanted to say something, but knew that she had disallowed it. And respect for this newborn slowly began creeping into Jane because of this, much as she tried to prevent it.

"Be careful with your instincts," she felt to caution him. "You will be alarmed by some here due to your instincts, but they mean you no harm."

Just because the nature between them and the Quileutes had changed since Renesmee and Jacob didn't mean that the wolves and the vampires didn't alarm each other. After all, the vampires still triggered the Quileute gene for some reason, even the vegan ones. They were still triggered the danger gene that made the wolves even though many were on good relations with the Quileutes.

Eragon nodded and she could smell his curiosity. Jane also got ready for Alec to laugh at her.

After a few minutes of slow walking, especially for a vampire, others came into sight. It was a camp of sorts, with tents for the Quileutes, but the vampires required no tents. Still many had tents as was their preference.

The Volturi symbol that Jane wore around her neck and a Quileute symbol was on the biggest tent, the one she and Alec occupied with the alpha Quileute in the area. Marching forward, Eragon following while observing with curiosity, Jane strode forward, expecting the newborn to follow.

Poor Eragon was nervous. He watched vampire after vampire and the Quileutes present eye him with curiosity, and Jane could tell that his instincts were telling him to run. But still, he followed Jane as she led him forward.

Emilie, the Quileute alpha, was nowhere in sight. It was not surprising since Jane noticed that her freshest scent led away from the camp. But Alec was there, as well as a few other vampires. From the faded scents of others who had long since left Jane noticed that Demetri and Felix had been here. Both were still human hunters. More than likely they had just stopped by for a report.

Alec watched her with interest, waiting for her to speak, and the other vampires gave them some room. Hopefully Eragon should realize by now that she and Alec were in charge of the vampires by now.

"And who," Alec asked, his eyes burrowing into Eragon who stiffened under his gaze. "Who is the newborn?" Alec stood stalk still, very vampire like.

The newborn didn't answer at first and his eyes flicked to Jane for comfort. After nodding, she commanded, "Give my brother what he wants to know."

Eragon's eyes widened and as a vampire slipped out of the tent to quell the quiet murmurs of Eragon's arrival that the newborn no doubt was hearing, he responded, "A rider, Eragon."

There was a long a fraction of a second, but too long for a vampire or wolf, and the entire camp was in laughter, just as Jane new they would be in. Fixing Alec with a stare and ignoring Eragon's discomfort, she waited stiffly for her brother to stop laughing.

"Eragon!" Alec laughed, his voice like wind chimes. "What a wonderful joke, Jane!"

"It's not a joke, Alec!" Jane hissed in indignation and Alec laughed more.

"This is an amusing coincidence!"

"It is not!" Jane argued back with her brother, eager to save what little dignity she had left. Indeed, the irony of the situation was getting to everyone. Everyone but Eragon, that is, whose facial features betrayed his confusion.

"Why is this funny?" Eragon frowned and Jane rolled her eyes.

Amusement was still in Alec's eyes as he turned back to their newcomer. "Later, newborn!" he promised and Jane growled her disapproval. Eragon shifted into a crouch to protect himself, but when the two other vampires stayed upright, he righted himself again.

Alec was staring at Eragon. "So what to do with you," he murmured and Eragon managed to return a steady gaze. Finally Alec walked out of the tent. "Come!" he called to the vampire rider and Eragon exited, his skin sparkling in the sun that had finally come out of the clouds. When he noticed the lack of sparkles on the other vampires he turned to Alec, the male vampire being much more friendly than Jane at the moment.

As Alec glanced over he seemed to notice Eragon's question. Motioning to his necklace with the Volturi symbol on it he explained, "We come from an advanced civilization. This necklace magnetically charges the atmosphere around us in such a way that it prevents the sun from reaching us. by refracting it and bending it around us in a certain way."

Eragon nodded at that but still looked confused, and Jane, who took her place beside Eragon, away from her brother, merely listened to the conversation. "Given time, we will teach you how to make one."

"So if you take it off..." the newborn trailed off.

A sly grin lit Alec's face, and he lifted the necklace over his head. As soon as he did that he began to sparkle. Putting it back on, the sparkle diminished and Eragon watched in fascinated awe. Jane snorted at this. The boy was from a primitive society more than likely and hadn't seen technology before, even though this was simple technology and a simple answer that had evaded the vampires for a very long time.

"The Quileutes have a similar necklace to," Alec explained all the while knowing that Eragon would be confused. He nodded to two Quileutes in the area who then shape shifted into their wolf forms. Jumping back, Eragon hissed and crouched in alarm, startled, until Jane and Alec both growled at him to put him in line.

Eragon slowly righted himself when he saw that the wolves meant him no danger and didn't approach him. Rather it seemed that Alec had some how subtly asked them to do so in order to explain certain things. "See, they're situation requires them to have a similar technology to that operates on similar levels."

"And if they don't have one?" Eragon stiffly asked, still alert for danger.

Jane sighed. "Calm down, newborn. No one is here to hurt you."

"And to answer your question," Alec explained. "If you want to know, if they don't have the necklace, when they go back to phase into their human form they're without their clothing. Quite unpleasant, really. The technology on the necklace, though remarkably simple, binds their current clothing to their human souls, or human spirits, and when they phase it's as if they're clothing is part of them and the clothing is one with their body. Long ago they'd phase somewhere in private and put their clothing back on before rejoining society. But now, with this, if they can bind their clothing to their human side, their human part of their souls, their clothing phases with them."

"Ah," Eragon nodded, already overwhelmed and uninterested.

Alec eyed Eragon for a minute, a calculating look. "Do call your dragon," he urged the boy. "We mean her no harm."

And at this, Eragon couldn't help but stiffen. "Why should I!" he hissed. Jane rolled her eyes.

"Because," Jane put in. "We have much to discuss with **_both_** of you, including about your current predicament."

Her statement seemed to relax Eragon and he did as she asked. After a little bit, when the great dragon landed, Jane noted how young the dragon appeared. Nodding her head to the creature she said aloud, "Welcome."

She had dealt with dragons before, even though she disliked dealing with fragile creatures even if they were immortal. She knew that dragons were intelligent and that the creature would understand her.

The dragon nodded her head to Jane but Alec intentionally ignored her. "Come," he summoned the newborn, walking away, and Eragon followed. And Jane was glad to hand him over to her brother.

(Eragon Point of View)

Eragon noted that Saphira was glad when Jane acknowledged her, as if the vampire knew that she was an intelligent being. Still, Eragon couldn't help but note both Jane and Alec's disapproval of the dragon. It made him wonder what problems they had with dragons. After all, how could a dragon harm them? They were vampires. Not even Saphira's flame could harm him.

That reminded Eragon...

Walking beside Alec he dared to ask, "Is it possible for our kind to die?"

Alec rolled his eyes. "Are we even alive to begin with?" he dryly inquired. This caused Eragon to reconsider. He'd always wondered.

"We exist," Alec explained. "But we are not necessarily living. More like caught between the two. For a while it was wondered if we had souls, and eventually it was proven that we do." The older vampire let Eragon simmer that thought in his mind for a second.

But that didn't answer Eragon's question. "I don't understand..." he trailed off.

There was silence for a moment, then Alec glanced at Eragon. They were currently walking in the forest. Where, Eragon didn't know, but Alec seemed to be wandering aimlessly, as if to get away from the camp. Finally, he answered. "Is it possible to kill something that isn't alive? I don't think so. But can we be destroyed? Yes, under very difficult to produce circumstances, and thus such a thing is rare."

When he saw Eragon's confusion, he continued. "The only way to be sure is to tear the vampire apart and burn the pieces. If we are merely torn apart, we can piece ourselves back together, any part of our body. We also heal remarkably fast. You can reattach a limb with your venom, which dries instantly when it touches the skin, but you don't need venom to reattach and heal the limb. It just heals at a slower rate, but not too slow."

He paused and then continued to explain, "Fire alone won't do the trick either because it's our venom on the insides of our body that are flammable. We won't catch fire unless torn apart. But I hear it can still cause some pain. Because of that, very few beings are actually capable of destroying us.

"It takes something that will pierce our skin to tear us apart, and the only things that can do that are our teeth, the Quileute's teeth, and the teeth of the children of the moon. Those are the only three that are capable of harming us. Not even our hands can tear us apart. It cannot pierce us."

The newborn sighed. It was a lot to take in. Once upon a time, Aro had tried to use fear and propaganda, proposing that a bomb could destroy them, but the reality was it took venom to burn, and that meant exposing the innards. That was why vampires were always torn apart before being destroyed. Not that Eragon needed to know the dark secrets of the Volturi's past before they became different. Time changed everyone, though it wrought change a slower pace for vampires.

After wandering around the forest a bit, Saphira in tow and ignored, he felt her frustration going. "You wanted to discuss something with us?" Eragon asked Alec and Alec stopped walking immediately.

The elder vampire turned to face them. His black Volturi robes moved in the slight wind and his golden eyes bored into Eragon, making the younger vampire uncomfortable. "The first thing you need to understand," Alec told them slowly, focusing on Eragon and yet giving the same message to Saphira. "Is that there are rules to our kind."

"Rules like what?" Eragon dared to ask.

Alec didn't answer right away. Instead he merely watched Eragon, a frown on his face. Finally he replied, turning away and walking again, "Our kind have laws but we don't have very many. All of our laws are centered on one principle, and one principle only: keep our existence a secret."

Eragon's eyes widened at this in pain. That meant that even if he did gain control of himself, he still wouldn't be able to go back to his friends and family. And he was devastated. "Are there no exceptions?" he practically begged, and he couldn't help but notice that Alec's eyes flickered to him briefly.

The boy shook his head. "No," he replied. "That is unless you plan on turning whoever your exposing yourself to. Or you intend to hunt them."

"Hunt?" Eragon asked in disgust. Despite the unclear muddy visions of his human memories, he still remembered what it had been like. He wouldn't force that on anyone. It was bad enough that he had to kill animals in order to stay sane. He had no idea what the elves would think of him for that.

Alec's eyes flickered to Eragon again. "Some still do keep the traditional food choice." If Eragon had been human, a shiver would have gone up his spine.

As the younger vampire kept pace with the elder vampire, Saphira silently in tow, he considered what he had been told. "What are the rules then?" he finally brought himself to ask, and Alec smiled slightly. He stopped once more and faced Eragon. They were under a wide, old tree with apples in it.

"The vampire laws,"Alec began. "The first one pertains to those who hunt humans, elves, dragons, or anything like them. Most likely it won't apply to you, because your vegan, that is unless you plan to change your diet?"

When Eragon shook his head, Alec continued anyways. "Regardless, the law is that you hunt inconspicuously. Do not draw attention with your hunting. The standard advice given, though is not in the law because it should be obvious, is to dispose of the remains in a way where the victim won't be found and to only hunt the members of society that won't be missed.

"Secondly, no creating immortal children. As we are frozen at the maturity level of when we are turned, it should be obvious then that a young child won't be old enough to understand the laws. They get out of control. Therefore you are not allowed to change a young child."

"And at what age are they too young to change?" Eragon asked, but he was feeling depressed from his circumstances already.

Alec shrugged. "It depends on the individual, though it should be obvious that one that is say five years old should never be changed period. But some children are more mature at a younger age than others. So it depends. But they must be old enough to understand the law and control their actions. You've never seen the slaughter that an immortal child can do."

After considering this, it seemed fair. If it couldn't control itself then it was a danger to the lesser societies to.

"Third rule to talk about," Alec continued after giving him time to think. "No conspiring or working with children of the moon. You cannot associate with them except to eradicate them."

"And what are children of the moon?" Eragon tilted his head only to be surprised when Alec shook his head.

"Later," Alec promised. "Let me finish explaining the rules first. The fourth to be mentioned is no doing anything that will attract attention to you. Sometimes creating an immortal army is part of this. If it can be done inconspicuously, then well, as we probably won't hear about it any ways, but if it's enough for us to notice then it's too much. Just take my advice, don't do it. But you probably won't have to worry about that because you won't be fighting over human or dwarfish blood."

"Next on the list, if you create a newborn, as courtesy you are responsible for teaching them the laws and looking after them until they can look after themselves. This may not be law, but it's common civility or common sense. You will find that there are many things that are not laws but are common civility and common sense, like respecting another coven's borders, moving before people notice that you don't age, don't pick a fight with another coven, treating others with respect, etc.

"These are also generally taught from creator to newborn, but since your creator isn't here, we've had to take the mantle on ourselves to teach the courtesy and laws of our kind. Bottom line of the common sense and common courtesies: remain inconspicuous.

"And lastly, if you live amongst humans, elves or what not, they cannot know what you are. You must hide what you are from them. And if they do find out, you're responsible for silencing that individual or turning them. That means you may have to kill them."

Eragon froze at this. "But.. why?" he asked. If he went back to his people they'd surely notice that he was different.

"Because," Alec explained. "We are not to be exposed."

"But why? They couldn't possibly harm us!" Eragon argued, unsure why the laws were even necessary to begin with. It wasn't as if anyone would stand a chance against them!

At this, Alec growled aggressively and Eragon crouched in fear and to protect himself. Afraid, Saphira launched into the sky awaiting to see how things would play out. After a moment of staring at the newborn harshly, Alec chastised, "It is the law. Just accept it as is." And with that he turned around and left, and Eragon stayed behind, not wanting to go near the elder vampire.

A state of mourning overtook Eragon and he once again wished that he could produce tears. 'Little one,' Saphira murmured softly, landing and curling around him protectively. 'I think in the end you and I both knew that we would never be able to return home. We knew before Alec even told us.'

"Still," Eragon replied back. "It hurts hearing it from them."

'I know,' she softly replied, nudging him. As she settled down Eragon sat beside her, still as stone. He leaned back against her.

"I won't return right away," Eragon replied. "I need time to take this all in."

'I know,' she nudged him again and as Eragon looked up at the big tree over them, he couldn't help but shake his head at his own foolishness.

Life would be different from now on, and he had no idea how to live it. Alec and Jane knew, but they were the rule enforcers here. He would not be able to break it now that he met them. And he didn't even have the strength to turn anyone. If he attempted it they would surely die. But then again, would he want to force this life on anyone else?

He stayed for most of the day, curled up beside Saphira. Finally when the sun began setting he got up and Saphira flew him back to the camp.

Jane and Alec were waiting for him. As the vampires and Quileutes gathered around the two of them, Eragon noted Saphira's fear.

"Relax," Jane told her with impatience. "They're not going to hurt you. You're just causing yourself unnecessary tension."

'You say as much!' Saphira thought out loud. 'But your kind are faster, stronger, and more powerful than I'll ever be! You could kill me accidentally!'

"She has a point," Alec softly replied to Jane, but only the vampires and Quileutes heard it. It was too soft for Saphira to hear.

Jane growled softly at Alec, already irritated. That made Eragon wonder if she was ever anything but irritated. He'd rather hang out with Alec than Jane any day.

Turning stiffly on her heels with such grace that only a vampire possessed, Jane walked away, and immediately the group around Saphira and Eragon dissipated. "Come," Alec murmured softly to Eragon and the boy vampire jumped off of his dragon.

Alec motioned to covered tent that hadn't been there before and was certainly big enough to hold Saphira. "You're dragon can sleep in there," he informed Eragon and Saphira trotted off to the tent, eager to get away from the vampires. "Don't worry about others interrupting her. We've told them not to approach her without you around."

"Thank you," Eragon murmured softly, his voice fluctuating in beautiful tones. However he was curious as to why when Saphira wouldn't even stand a chance against them if they wanted to bother her. But when he voiced his concerns, Alec merely laughed.

"We asked them not to so as not to irritate _**you**_," Alec corrected. "We've seen fights break out before when a vampire's dragon is bothered. Normally, a rider can get pretty protective and furious."

"Ah," Eragon responded, and he knew that he would indeed be protective, just like earlier when he sent Saphira into the sky for her safety. And in that instant he knew that Alec was right. If anyone tried to bother his Saphira they would face him.

But as he thought on this the other part of his mind was itching to ask Alec. "Why haven't I heard of other vampire riders before now?"

Alec gave him a disdainful look like it should have been obvious and Eragon tilted his head. "Yes, I know, the law!" Eragon retorted snidely a bit at which Alec growled in warning at his tone. "But in all my three months, I've never seen another vampire rider. And who are these other vampire riders you talk of?"

And so he was used to referring to himself as a vampire now. But Alec didn't answer right away. He merely turned and walked away, expecting Eragon to follow.

As Alec walked toward the tent with the strange symbols on it, the symbol that Eragon would later learn was the Volturi and a Quileute symbol, Alec said nothing. When they finally went inside, Jane wasn't there, and Eragon wasn't surprised as he hadn't smelled a recent scent of hers leading to the tent. The only scent of hers that was there was one that was at least a few hours old.

Alec stood in the back of the tent and turned to face Eragon as Eragon took in the decorations. The same symbol, the Volturi symbol, was embroidered around the tent. But there were hangings with the Quileute symbol on them.

A writing desk was the only furniture in the tent as vampires had no need of chairs. Chairs were convenient though. Nothing, not even parchment or paper was on the elaborate desk that had curved legs and strange handles for opening the doors. And Eragon couldn't help but wonder what was in them, though he knew better than to snoop around and risk angering the other vampires.

A pole was in the center of the tent, and that's where Eragon stood, awaiting Alec's reply patiently.

Finally Alec explained, "The first vampire rider we ever came across was the original Eragon and his dragon Bid'Daum. Who created them, we don't know nor does he, except that he was distraught over his creation and that he could not return to his former kind and people due his nature. And once he knew the law, he knew that even if he controlled himself he still wouldn't be able to return.

"Like many riders that were turned after him, he chose to leave this world rather than risk being tempted to return and expose himself, thus forcing us to take action."

"Us?" Eragon asked eyes somewhat wide. As he pondered on the new revelation he tried to think back to his human memories. That would indeed explain the mysterious disappearance of Eragon and what happened to him.

"The Volturi," Alec explained. "Jane and I are members of the Volturi guard. The Volturi are the closest thing to royalty that our kind has, and as guard members you could say that Jane and I are the equivalent of nobility for we serve the Volturi of our own accord, much how nobility serve their royalty of their own choice."

"Oh," Eragon replied. Then he carefully dared to ask another question, all the while wondering if he should, "Why does it seem that Jane hates the original Eragon?"

Alec growled at this though Eragon had fully anticipated this, he knowing that it would be a rather sensitive topic.

"Do _**not**_ mention that to my sister!" Alec warned harshly. "Though to answer your question, it was because Eragon had a fascination and infatuation with her. No, she did not return his affections. If that were all, she wouldn't have been as annoyed, but he pursued her relentlessly and was obsessed with her. Finally she drove him off."

"Oh," Eragon replied again, and he got the hint. That was probably one of the reasons Eragon had left this world perhaps? Then he asked, "What do you mean by 'other worlds,'?"

"Later," Alec replied. "We've done enough for now. Go socialize with the others and familiarize yourself with them while your dragon sleeps. If you're going to be apart of this temporary coven and alliance, then you need to know those your around."

"And who says that I want to stay here?" Eragon challenged.

A dark glint was caught in Alec's golden eyes. "You _**will**_ remain here," Alec growled. "You're a newborn and need instruction, and that instruction can't be done all at once. Once we're confident that you know the rules and are capable of following them, _**then**_ we'll let you go. But until then, you will remain here."

Eragon nodded slowly, eyes wide, and as he gazed at Alec's piercing stare, he realized that there was another reason Alec wanted him to remain for now. Alec didn't quite trust Eragon enough to where he wouldn't run back to his former friends and family, and thus he was watching him. He wanted to make sure that the newborn would obey the rules.

But Eragon couldn't help but think that Alec was right. He did have that urge to run back to to his former life. So in a way, Alec was doing him a favor and protecting him. He was making sure that he wouldn't have to enforce the Volturi's laws on him. And Eragon couldn't help but be grateful for that.

Eragon acknowledged Alec with a nod, showing that he would submit to the elder vampire's rule. Leaving the tent, Eragon wandered around. It was time to meet new people.

Or rather new vampires and Quileutes.

(Alec Point of View)

Alec and Jane were currently situated in their tent. Jane had returned sometime after Eragon had left and Alec was admittedly relieved when some vampires had invited him hunting and he had accepted. Not only was it good for the newborn to interact and get out, but there were things he needed to discuss without risking the newborn overhearing. Saphira even with her heightened sense wouldn't be able to hear clear across the camp like a vampire or wolf would.

When a scent wafted over to the twins, they realized that the local alpha had returned from her own hunt, a few comrades with her. They left her as she made her way to the Volturi tent.

Emilie approached Alec and Jane as the day changed colors to night time no doubt to discuss the division of patrols for the coming week, the light seen as she moved the flap of the tent and came in. Since Renesmee and Jacob, there had been a lot more female wolves to where they were now half and half.

Alec and Jane had come to respect the wolves even though they didn't often have opportunities to work with them. Over time the Volturi had learned that they were going to have to live side by side with the Quileutes, and thus they tried not to anger any packs that they came across.

Emilie was in wolf form and she promptly phased back to her human form. In her human form she was tall and skinny, muscular none the less, but she had beautiful golden hair, exotic tanned features, and her eyes were blue. She wore a simple painted shirt and painted pants, embroidery with Quileutes symbols on them. Her lips were thin and her eyebrows were thin.

They were currently in the Volturi's tent, and Alec and his sister acknowledged her with a nod. He expected Emilie to get straight to business, but to his surprise she started a different topic instead.

"So?" she asked the two of them, friendliness lacing her voice, though Alec could tell that she was trying to calm the situation for the topic she knew would be sensitive and perhaps hostile. "What do you think about the newborn? What's your opinion of him?"

Jane, unsurprisingly, seemed annoyed at the mere mention of him. Alec knew how it irked her to have another Eragon and one that was showing promise at becoming much like the previous one at that. "If he troubles me, he'll see why I've always had high status amongst the guard," she muttered angrily, leaving the threat hanging in the air. And Alec couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"He has promise," Alec decided to admit. "But I fear that his longing for his old home may cause him trouble. And though I didn't want to mention it to him at the time for I feared alienating him, I think he may be gifted, unlike the previous Eragon."

At that Alec brought about the conversation that he and Jane knew was the real reason she had asked. Both Jane and Alec preferred not to beat around the bush, unlike Emilie. She was more subtle in her movements to the point where both Alec and Jane had learned to be cautious with her.

"I noticed," Emilie admitted, her expression guarded and Alec could tell that she didn't like them bringing the real topic to the front so soon. It gave her less time to calculate. However, Alec didn't want to be controlled by the situation and he had no doubt that she would indeed try to trap them to get what she wanted and what was on her agenda. Her agenda being to ensure that the Volturi didn't gain any more power than they already had. It concerned her people.

And Jane nodded. "As did I. But what gift he possesses, I don't know. I have half a mind to ask a favor of Eleazar and see if he will see what this newborn is capable of."

The wolf visibly stiffened at that, almost like the twins had confirmed what she was afraid of. "Then you intend to let Aro, Cauis, and Marcus know about him?"

Alec read between the lines. What she really meant was, 'You intend to tell your leaders so that they can make him a valuable addition to your coven?'

Though they were somewhat on better terms with the Quileutes than in past thousands of years, that didn't mean that the Quileutes trusted them entirely. The Cullens and others had always had better relationships with the Quileutes due to the fact that the Volturi had a duel nature of the guard, some preferring human blood and some using animal blood.

That and it didn't help that the Volturi were the leaders, or that they had gotten off on the wrong start with the Quileutes, what with them trying to wipe out Renesmee the first time.

That Emilie didn't want another talented vampire joining the guard was understandable. It could alter the balance of power. 'And so, the politicking begins,' Alec harshly thought. He knew what Aro, Marcus, and Cauis wanted. And he could tell that his sister was thinking the same way.

"Why not?" Jane proffered, trying to subtly push back. "Our masters would just find out anyways with a touch of the hand. Why would we hide anything from them when they'll already know?" And Emilie narrowed her eyes at that, more hesitant.

"Besides," Alec pitched in, trying a different avenue. "The newborn needs training and to learn the immortal laws. Who better to train him than the lawgivers themselves?"

"Others could," Emilie smiled and waved her hand graciously. "There are many covens that could train him and take him in."

"And we are the first to come across him, thus he is our responsibility as if we had created him ourselves," Jane harshly retorted.

"Even when you don't like him?" Emilie retorted, a false smile lighting her face.

That Emilie wanted them to give up their charge of Eragon was certain. And that Alec and Jane couldn't afford a rift with this pack was also certain. Thus he and his sister knew that they were going to have to find a way around it, a way that not even the alpha could argue. A way that would still give Aro, Marcus and Cauis what they wanted, even if it had to be obtained in subtle ways.

"I may not like him," Jane ventured, just as cautious though hiding her own caution. "But I have a duty. Shall I refuse to do my duty just because of mere dislike? What kind of law enforcer would I be then? I cannot afford to have duel standards."

"No, I don't suppose so," Emilie replied, and Alec saw that she was preparing another avenue. "I can understand needing to enforce rules even when one doesn't like it. But suppose another coven offered to take him off you hands? You would be relieved of the duty without any shame coming on you. You wouldn't be doing double standards. I can think of a number of covens that would be willing to do this task. Perhaps I shall tell them and save you the trouble of having to raise him."

At this, Alec was ready to frown. It was true, what she said. If another coven offered to raise him then they had no excuse to keep him. And if they kept him, it would look like they were only keeping him for their own agenda. The Volturi couldn't afford have such a look, and so it would take another avenue to prevent this. That and he knew that Emilie was indeed on friendly terms with many covens and if she called they would answer.

"You're right!" Jane responded with acknowledgment. "But how are we going to get the message out when all of us are occupied and we can't afford to leave our posts, due to the circumstances?"

"Easy!" Emilie waved her hand. "I'll just contact another alpha and they'll ask their coven to come fetch him!"

"At which point you may as well tell them to stay, for we need the help," Jane pleasantly responded and Emilie scowled. "Then, once we're done here, they can take him away if he so chooses. But I fear, at that point, that he may already be trained and it would be pointless. We'd welcome the reinforcements, however."

Alec could tell the alpha was frustrated, but she kept her face composed. "We'd like the help," Alec restated. "But he's almost trained, and there's very little left to teach him. Perhaps a few months more and he can go out on his own. It would be pointless to send someone else to fetch him. We're more than capable of teaching him. Besides, you have to admit that his talent would be very useful here assisting us at this point, whatever his talent is."

"Indeed," Emilie grudgingly admitted.

"And that way he can not only assist us, but he can learn the laws by seeing them in action. Very beneficial."

Jane left the sentence hanging and the twins waited to see what Emilie would do. Though they had had to sacrifice taking him to Aro and the others, at the same time they had retained ground by keeping him under the control of the Volturi's guard at least. It was a worthy compromise and probably the best that they were going to get under the circumstances. Even Emilie couldn't fight it.

As the alpha took a moment to deliberate, Alec and Jane realized they had won. "Very well," Emile finally conceded. "It is reasonable."

"Then he stays," Alec put down firmly, being the first to respond especially since Jane didn't like the newborn.

"Yes, he will," Emilie retorted, then added with a smile. "But perhaps it's best if the newborn's education comes from more than one source. The other vampires can help teach him, yes?"

And the twins knew that they would have to agree to this for the sake of their temporary alliance. It was the one way that Emilie figured she could ground the situation to prevent the newborn from being solely influenced by one source. And Alec could tell that she was hoping it would be enough to prevent the newborn from joining the Volturi guard. Emilie also knew that Jane and Alec would have no choice but to concede.

"A reasonable suggestion," Jane narrowed her eyes. "And so they shall."

With that said and done, Emilie exited the tent. "We can discuss patrols later, I'm tired," she whispered through the walls of the tent and then left the camp entirely.

Jane and Alec waited until she was well out of earshot. "It could have gone worse," Alec admitted and Jane nodded. "We still have a chance."

"But less of a chance," came Jane's disappointed statement.

The younger twin knew what council he needed to give then. "That means that you can't afford to alienate him, Jane. You'll have to be more careful with him."

"I know!" Jane growled and she too exited the tent.

Not a moment later Alec heard Eragon's return.

(Murtagh Point of View)

As news of Alagaesia reached Murtagh from fellow riders who were reporting what they had scryed, Murtagh listened with half a mind. One of them was on what to name the capital. Nasuada had tried to call it Illirea but the people had steadily protested it and thus it had been called capital.

Murtagh snorted. They were still fighting over what to name it and Alagaesia. Though they had settled on calling Alagaesia Harmony's land. And that was Alagaesia's new name.

Murtagh waved his hand and the riders switched topic to other news, none of which interested him or seemed to affect him. They were currently sitting in a large room around a round table, a chandelier above them. Murtagh listened silently with a dead expression. Thus it was unsurprising when none of the reports turned up anything about Eragon. That didn't stop it from hurting though.

As Murtagh dismissed them he went to the private dragon hold that Thorn, as the lead dragon, stayed in. 'How was it?' Thorn asked him as he curled up beside his dragon and Thorn put a wing over him. Concern radiated from the bond, and Murtagh could tell Thorn was concerned over how dead Murtagh had become since grieving.

He still couldn't accept his little brother as dead. But that he was past caring was what Thorn was concerned about it. He didn't even feel like he was in his own body anymore. He felt like he was just as, what we would call, a zombie living life.

'The usual,' Murtagh responded in monotone, no life in his voice.

Thorn nudged him gently. 'Things will get better, you'll see,' though Murtagh could tell that Thorn wasn't sure of that, he was just hoping that. And Murtagh didn't respond.

As his mind drifted off he went deeper and deeper into the darkness and finally he fell asleep. What he was unaware of as he slept was that he was weeping and crying. When Murtagh awoke he was no longer aware of what he had dreamed of, and frankly he didn't care. He was so depressed that life didn't seem to have any meaning for him anymore. He was just going through the motions.

Normally, he should have been in his room sleeping, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was just too tired to make his way over to his bedroom.

As a soft mind nudged his he noted that Thorn was awake and Murtagh wondered offhandedly how long he had been awake for. 'Are you all right?' Thorn asked him and Murtagh didn't respond. He just leaned back, breathing deeply, going over the list of to dos for the day. Though it was dark out, it would only be a couple of hours until the sun rose. And then there would be another boring new day.

A sigh came from his bond. 'Is life not worth living anymore?' Thorn begged. 'What about me? Am I not good enough for you to live a little? You barely do anything but your duties anymore. What about me? Can you not enjoy life for my sake?'

No answer came. Thorn knew the answer. 'You will always loose people,' he gently told him, trying to be careful not to crack Murtagh's mentality any more than it already was. 'You can't live in a state of grief forever.'

Tears came down Murtagh's cheek and he sobbed again. Everything about his life seemed ruined. 'After I came back and Eragon accepted me back, I thought things would get better,' Murtagh confessed and he wrapped his arms around his knees, bringing his knees closer to him in an attempt to comfort himself. 'After he convinced everyone to trust me, I thought that there would be peace in my life! But there isn't! I... I owe so much to him. He did much more for me than I realized.'

'And you did a lot for him that he never realized,' Thorn replied. 'You sacrificed a lot for him, and it took a few years for him to realize that.'

'But I still never told him everything that took place,' Murtagh admitted even though Thorn already knew. There were things just to gruesome that he didn't like remembering, and still many things that he couldn't remember due to the trauma of the experience. But he was sure if he did remember the forgotten things, he would go insane. Others he kept private. He had no need for others to pity him.

'He knew that you went through a difficult time,' Thorn acknowledged. 'He knew that you had a difficult life.' The great dragon shifted and once more Murtagh had to find a way to get comfortable.

'And now life holds no meaning,' whispered Murtagh through the bond. 'He was there, he helped me in ways that others cannot. He was able to help me because of his position, and he tried to understand me. But now, he's not here. I-I'm lost Thorn. I'm not the leader he was, and I don't know what to do. I can't lead these people.'

Normally, Thorn would be miffed that Murtagh hadn't acknowledged his help in his life, but right now, when Murtagh wasn't in his right mind, he couldn't help but feel pity for his rider. And so, he chose to forgive his rider and ignore being overlooked. It wasn't Murtagh's fault.

'You can lead them, Murtagh. I know you can. But first you have to let go of your brother. The people need you. You have no choice but to lead them. They need to know that you'll be a strong leader.'

'I'm not a strong leader,' Murtagh deadly replied. 'I'm... broken.'

'Then you must repair yourself.'

"Impossible," Murtagh whispered aloud and his voice was forlorn, cracked almost from crying. "I cannot be repaired. I am the last of my immediate family and I couldn't even answer Roran where Eragon was. He blames me for Eragon's disappearance."

'You know that's not true,' Thorn answered with a bit of sharpness in his voice. 'He was just upset that day. He tried to repair it later on with you, but you could not withstand it.' Thorn looked into his eyes, noticing Murtagh's pain manifest so deeply. 'He apologized, Murtagh. You broke down crying and couldn't accept the apology. You blame yourself for something that isn't your fault.'

Once more tears went down Murtagh's face. 'If I'd been there, I could have saved him from whatever it was! I could have brought him back, safe and sound!'

'You don't know that,' Thorn gently replied. 'For all you know, you might have taken his place.'

'Then so be it,' the rider whispered grimly and Thorn sighed. There was no reasoning with the red rider at this point. And he couldn't help but feel pity for Murtagh.

After a while Murtagh got up. Going back to his room he washed up using the wash bin that was there, then he ate from the tray of food that was on his desk. He only ate because he knew that if he didn't Thorn would get after him even more. He skipped a lot of meals from his depression already. If he didn't eat anything then Thorn would just involve others and Murtagh didn't want that.

After that Murtagh got up and did the elven exercise that Eragon had taught him. He then went and bathed. But no relaxation could be found in the warm water that had been prepared for him.

Finally, Murtagh dressed in a new rider's outfit that the elves from Ellesmere had sent him and he was ready for the day. But in many ways he felt like he was unprepared to face the day. He felt like this every day. 'What kind of leader am I?' Murtagh thought, judging himself. 'I'm no Eragon.'

He exited his room and went to the dragon hold where Thorn was. The dragon wasn't there but a few minutes later he landed. Then, putting on the saddle, the two of them went for a morning flight like they always did before Murtagh started his duties.

The air was cold and the rays of sunlight made Murtagh's outfit shine in strange hues of brown and red. Up into the clouds they went and as ice rubbed and whipped past him, Murtagh pulled his cloak closer, shivering slightly. Then they went below the clouds and Murtagh could see the forest and parts of the vast expanse of the castle that had been built into the forest.

Much of it was still hidden by the trees and if one was on the ground one could easily get lost in the forest and not find the castle. That was how well they had physically hidden it, not counting the magical wards that protected it.

After they landed, Murtagh began the training for the day. He taught the class on sword fighting, and for a while he engaged himself with his students. Offhandedly, Murtagh listened as Thorn coached the other dragons on flying maneuvers for combative purposes.

When they were done, yet another group took their place, and once more Murtagh began the lesson anew. Finally, after that class, they broke for mealtime and Murtagh, as was his newest custom, chose to skip the meal.

The excuse that the red rider used was actually taken from Arya. Or rather, he used Arya's excuse to assume the role of the lead rider to his advantage. He told everyone that as leader he had things to do, and thus he couldn't have lunch or dinner with them.

He claimed that he used the time to do other things that were needed and that he couldn't find time to do otherwise. He also stated that he'd take the meals in his room. But in reality he just threw the food they gave him out the window so that it would look like he was eating. He didn't want his students worrying.

Thorn only tolerated it because Murtagh had at least one meal a day. That and the dragon knew that if he pushed the red rider further, then he might accidentally push Murtagh to do something that Thorn would regret. Already, Murtagh had been eyeing the balcony in grim fascination. And that made the red dragon nervous.

Thorn felt as if he was walking on ice shells with Murtagh. And the red dragon feared that if he told someone that Murtagh would act immediately, especially since Murtagh would know if Thorn told someone. And so Thorn was forced to accept Murtagh's meal habits.

The red rider was already thinner, but it wasn't that noticeable because of the type of clothing he wore. But if he got any thinner then it might be noticeable. But Murtagh wasn't worried. As long as he was still able to function and do what was required of him, then he didn't really care what happened to his body, even though Thorn was concerned.

But truth be told, Murtagh wondered if the students could see behind his excuse to skip mealtime. He wondered if they already knew that he was throwing the food out the window. If so, they weren't saying anything. But he did know that the students talked about him in a concerned manner behind his back. About what, he didn't know, since the specifics never reached his ears. As soon as he would walk by, they would stop talking.

After throwing the food out the window and scraping the plate to make it look like he was eating, Murtagh sat by the wall and brought his knees to his chest, crying once more. It seemed to be a new daily routine for him. 'Eragon,' he thought, the tears streaming down his eyes. 'Where are you?'

When it was close to the time that he would be required to teach again, he slowly got up. Then he washed his face so that people wouldn't know that he'd been crying. Then he put the mask back on his face. It was a daily routine now, and it was one that Thorn never interrupted, for which he was grateful. He felt like he needed the time to cry now that he had discovered that it felt good to cry.

Now it was back to his mundane tasks. This time he would be teaching the history of the riders. It was mundane tasks like this that Murtagh had come to expect and in a deranged way, respect. Anything to get his mind off of the pain was welcome.

But he also knew that the history had been close to Eragon, so in a way it comforted him as it made him feel closer to his little brother. But it was also his legacy, as a rider.

In many ways, Murtagh wished that he had had Oromis as a teacher instead of Galbatorix. The horror he had endured from his training was something that always haunted the red rider, especially as he taught. Various flashes of his abusive past under the king would pop up. These he tried to ignore, but it was getting harder and harder. And at times it interfered with his teaching.

At first, when he had taught after returning to Eragon, it had been difficult for him. In those days he had hated it because of how much it had reminded him of his abuse at the hands of Galbatorix. That, and he wasn't entirely sure that the history he had learned from the mad man was indeed correct.

But when he had returned to Eragon, his best friend had taken the time to pass Oromis's teachings on to him. It had been hard at first and caused a few PTSD moments as he remembered things of the past, but slowly, he had overcome it. And he had enjoyed spending time with his friend.

Eragon had always been patient with him, and he knew how far to push the red rider. He also knew when something was too far, and he respected that. So, slowly, Murtagh began to heal and the painful flashbacks didn't occur as often. And slowly, he had come to enjoy the tutoring and the history lessons.

When Eragon had then expected him to teach, Murtagh had had difficulty once more with the flashbacks, but like with the tutoring it had faded over time.

Then Eragon had disappeared. Once more, Murtagh felt himself slipping back to the old days, and he was not sure how he was going to cope. The trauma of losing his brother had been too much for him, especially since he was still recovering from Galbatorix's torture. It had merely worsened things.

But he had no choice but to continue on. His students needed him. And so, he trudged on.

It was a day like this, an ordinary day in which he was teaching, when the unexpected occurred. Through his bond he felt a bit of turmoil. What it was, he didn't know, but he figured that he would soon find out, one way or another.

Thorn's mind touched his, and Murtagh flinched as he remembered Galbatorix coming in to his mind. You would think that he would know the touch of his own dragon's mind, but being in the circumstance where he was teaching the students and it being a reminder of what he had endured during those terrible days, his mind and body briefly forgot. It was times like this that he forgot that Galbatorix was already dead and wouldn't be coming after him.

He was going to raise the shields to his mind when he realized who it was. Forcing himself to relax, he allowed Thorn to enter.

'Murtagh?' the dragon attempted to approach the subject with wariness, almost like he was afraid that what he was going to say would topple Murtagh's sanity.

That made Murtagh wonder what on earth could be so troubling that it would cause Thorn to be cautious. 'Hmm?' he sent through the link and Thorn's worried mind tried to send comfort to Murtagh for whatever was about to occur.

'I think you should see this,' was all that Thorn said, and then his mind left. This made Murtagh frown. As the young man saw it, he had two options. He could either ignore this and hide away, letting someone else take care of it, or he could face it bravely.

Of course Murtagh chose the latter, if only for his dignity which he no longer cared about, but more for the fact that it was his duty. And so, dismissing the class, he wound his way through the vast hallways. 'Where do you want me?' he asked his dragon and Thorn once again returned in his thoughts.

'Go to the greeting hallway,' Thorn instructed and Murtagh turned around, heading through different hallways until he came to a vast expansive room near a door a chandelier with candlelight above him, the candles lit even though it was noon. Windows high above brought light in, further illuminating the hallway.

Murtagh wasn't sure what he was expecting to find, so it was a shock to him when he walked into the room and saw queen Arya there, The queen of the elves was dressed elegantly, in her mother's feathered outfit, and offhandedly, he wondered why Arya had never scryed him to inform him that she was coming. It was something she normally did when she had matters to discuss and it was a courtesy she had done for Eragon. That meant that it had to be serious enough that she needed it concealed until she was able to talk about it face to face.

That the situation was serious, Murtagh could tell. But what he wasn't expecting was for Arya's next expression. The queen had turned around when Murtagh had entered, and her expression was composed. That was until she saw Murtagh. As soon as she took a good look at the red rider, she lost all composure and her face went from shock to horror.

The queen took a tentative step forward, worry on her face. "Murtagh?" she asked, and Murtagh shifted uncomfortably, not at all liking the attention. Under her breath Murtagh heard her utter, "Thorn had told me that he was going through a difficult time, but this I did not expect. He warned me to find him changed for the worse."

That she hadn't wanted him to hear that and that it was only for the queen's ears he knew, but he couldn't help but overhear. And he could care less about the comment.

Once more, Arya stepped forward, taking in the lead rider's dead expression. "Murtagh, all you all right?" she asked him and Murtagh shrugged.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" Murtagh tried to muster. He didn't want the elf worrying about him, and her concerned looks were making him shift from toe to toe.

Arya stepped forward more. "Had I known what the leadership would do to you, I wouldn't have suggested it," she confessed. "I didn't realize it was this serious."

"What's done is done," the red rider replied with no emotion and he turned around and led her out, wanting a change of subject. His voice was monotone in a dead manner throughout the whole conversation. "Normally you scry before you come. I trust that it must be serious enough that you want this done face to face without risk of interference? And I trust that you want it done in a discreet manner that won't attract attention?"

The elven queen was eyeing him the whole time with worry, and as soon as Murtagh was done and had lead her to his study where they could discuss things in private, she nodded. "Yes," she said, and her voice took on a worried tone. "As a rider, I feel that you should be involved in this. In fact, it greatly involves you, Murtagh, and not just because you're a rider."

"And Thorn already knows?" Murtagh asked.

"Firnen is telling him," was the reply. Murtagh merely nodded and waited for her to continue. Once more, Arya was staring at him in shock and worry. "I hate to put more on you," Arya whispered finally. "If you don't want involvement, then I'll understand and we'll take care of it ourselves. You can always send other riders to help us."

"I must do my duty," was Murtagh's emotionless response and Arya nodded, resigned.

"So be it," she whispered and got up. Murtagh followed her, not questioning as she led him out of the room and to the dragon hold. "But this is better shown than explained."

Murtagh said nothing, and as they entered the dragon hold, Thorn was there, as well as an unfamiliar dragon and one that seemed familiar. Murtagh had the feeling he should know him, but as he tried to look back on his memories he found that he couldn't recall anything, like it had been blocked. He wondered briefly if it was because it was linked to something traumatic.

But whatever it was, he didn't dwell on it. Instead his eyes went over to the cloaked figures standing away from the dragons and next to Thorn. As Murtagh and Arya entered, they turned to him.

"I see you're leader of the riders now, Murtagh," a voice said underneath the cloak and Murtagh shifted uncomfortably.

"Not by choice," He confessed. "I'd rather anyone else take my place right now." And with that he sent a glance to Arya, almost begging, even though he knew that was not possible.

"You judge yourself too harshly," the other cloaked figure said, and with that the cloaked figures through off the hoods of their traveling cloaks. Murtagh froze in shock. His heart quickened.

Standing before him, clearly alive, were Brom and Oromis restored to their youth.

**Alright, there's chapter two.**

**Please review if you are reading. Reviewing is a courtesy. So far I have no reviews on this story.**

**Firestar'sniece**


	3. Chapter 3: Adjusting to Changes

**I don't own Inheritance Cycle or Twilight.**

**Please note that the pairing poll is still open. You can vote for either Eragon and Jane as a couple, or Eragon and Arya. So far only one person has voted.**

**And..**

**Ooh! Plot developments!**

**And Murtagh gets a major chunk in this chapter! Yeah!**

Chapter Three: Adjusting to Changes

(Murtagh Point of View)

As the cloaks came off and Brom and Oromis were exposed, Murtagh wanted nothing more than to run away. But he was frozen in shock and panic. Here in front of him were the two people he least expected to see, and one of them frightened him more than the other.

Murtagh stood wide eyed, and he was very close to trembling. But thankfully, he was able to keep his composure. Images that he had long forgotten, images of fighting Oromis and Glaedr, rushed back into his mind and he nearly winced at that. And for a moment he was trapped in his own painful memories, things he had forgotten due to the trauma.

He wasn't entirely sure why he'd forgotten that set of memories, but he knew that there was more to it. And now he realized why one of the dragons looked familiar. He glanced at Glaedr nervously, and noticed to his surprise that his heart of hearts was restored. How, he didn't know. In fact, he wasn't even sure how these two were even alive.

How Glaedr had gotten his eldunari back before coming back from the dead was a mystery. But he could sense it inside the dragon's body. And the other dragon also had her eldunari.

Instinctively, Murtagh withdrew into himself. Trying to be polite, he exchanged the standard elvish greetings and then, after bowing, withdrew himself. He was about ready to faint.

'Two people, back from the dead?' he questioned to himself in wonder, shaking his head. He began fleeing to his room. 'How is this possible?'

'Murtagh,' Thorn tried to say but Murtagh instinctively shut his dragon out. He was very weak and weary and drained from the encounter, and memory upon memory kept coming to the surface. Groaning, a massive headache forming, he gripped the side of the wall, wincing as the pain and memories kept coming. But he wanted more than anything to shut them out, to forget again.

The whole while, Murtagh was unaware of the others coming out and following him. He didn't manage to make it very far, anyways. So when Murtagh finally collapsed and fainted, they were by his side in an instant. "Murtagh?" the faraway voice of Oromis murmured, but Murtagh's vision was already darkening. Then he knew no more.

(Unknown amount of time has passed)

His vision came in and out. Sometimes he was barely on the surface of his consciousness, and other times he was submerged completely. For a long while he wandered in blackness, not feeling anything. Other times, he wasn't sure what he was experiencing.

Memories that had long since been buried from the abuse of the situation flickered on the surface and Murtagh tried to shut them out. But he wasn't able to. They kept coming and coming.

When he was closer to consciousness, he heard voices, though he wasn't always able to identity who they were coming from. Feeling depressed, his subconscious decided to distract itself and allow Murtagh a chance to hear some of the conversation in an effort to help him retain his sanity.

"How long has he been like this?" someone, a male asked. And though Murtagh wasn't entirely sure, he thought he heard genuine concern and compassion in the tone.

"I don't know," the female voice responded. "I've asked some of the other riders, and they said that they found his plates of food empty."

"And yet he seems on the verge of starvation," a gruffer voice responded, but this one also had worry and concern etched in his tone. "Perhaps he has found a way to get rid of it without others knowing. Perhaps the plate was only empty for appearance's sake."

"Regardless, we'll need to be careful and make sure he eats," the other male voice responded. "If necessary, I can demand that he have private meals with me to make sure he gets the necessary nutrition. He needs it. He can't carry on for much longer like this."

"What did Thorn say?" the gruff voice asked and Murtagh felt himself going towards consciousness again, but, not willing to return, he forced himself to stay on that level of alertness.

A sigh came. "He won't talk to me," the female confessed. "But he's worried and concerned, as well as scared about something. I think he's worried to speak out for Murtagh's sake, like it will push him over the edge. Murtagh's been very depressed. When I saw him, I didn't even recognize him!"

There was a pause, a silence. Then the rough voice inquired, "Tell me what happened, from the beginning. I also want to know what happened to my son."

"We don't know," the female voice seemed emotional. "Eragon just disappeared. We looked for him; everyone looked for him. But Murtagh took it the hardest. He seemed to be getting better before hand, but according to the students, after Eragon disappeared he's been steadily slipping into a deeper and deeper depression since then. And a few days ago, it reached the extreme. He became practically dead. And Thorn, one of the few things Thorn did say to me was that not even he can coax him out of it. He's scared he's going to lose his rider."

After this, Murtagh was unable to maintain his consciousness any longer and he slipped further back in to the blackness, hoping for respite.

None came. Instead, dreams and memories greeted him. Then his mind brought him to a clearing. Flowers were all around and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The colors were so bright, vibrant, that he was sure that not even the elves could make nature this beautiful. Every single detail seemed to be taken care of in such love and devotion.

In it stood Eragon in all his half elven glory, looking as bright and happy as ever. But he was deathly pale as if he were a ghost. That, and his features were glorified so much and enhanced with so much beauty that Murtagh didn't even recognize him at first. He looked so different, and his manners were different, more graceful than even the elves could manage. In fact, Murtagh had first thought that he was staring at a stranger.

There seemed to be peace around him. 'If this is what it's like to be in death,' Murtagh thought. 'Then I'd rather die sooner. If such perfection awaits me, I'd gladly live in this beautiful peaceful place and be perfected than live in the pain filled world I am in.'

Eragon was dressed in a traveler's outfit with a dark cloak situated around his shoulders. It was almost the same thing he had been wearing the day he had disappeared, replicated to such perfection. Murtagh stood in shock, unsure what to do. And so he chose to watch than interrupt.

The boy had his back turned to him and for a moment Murtagh thought he didn't notice him. But strangely enough, he seemed to be aware of Murtagh's presence. He stooped to pick up a flower, muttering too softly in the ancient language to understand, though Murtagh thought he caught one word, or name rather: Arya. Then as Murtagh stepped forward, Eragon turned around.

Eragon's face brightened immediately. But there also seemed to be confusion and awe in his face, like he was seeing Murtagh for the first time. "Murtagh!" he greeted and Murtagh rushed over, tears in his eyes. He drew his little brother and best friend into a big hug, tears streaming down his face. So caught up in his emotions was he that he failed to notice how cold Eragon felt.

"I missed you," Murtagh whispered softly, and he wept into Eragon's shoulders. Eragon held him for a while, allowing him to weep and mourn. The whole situation, though a dream, felt so real.

The elder rider was surprised when Eragon drew back, taking a good look at his face. "Murtagh, what has become of you?" the blue rider asked, worry etched into his tone. He gripped the other rider's shoulders. "When are you going to let me go? You'll never have peace if you don't."

At this point, Murtagh started shaking in grief. He shook his head and responded, "I can never let you go little brother. And I don't even have a body to declare you dead."

"You can't stay this way," Eragon pressed. "I don't want you to be sad, I want you to be happy."

"I can't!" Murtagh pled and then he dropped on his knees, in a begging manner. "Eragon, please, come back! I need you! I need you!" He continued to weep.

Softly, very gently, Eragon knelt next to the crying rider and placed his hand on the elder's shoulder. "This isn't about me, is it?" he questioned softly, sadly. "This is about your feelings of being abandoned in Uru'baen, isn't it?"

Murtagh shook his head, not looking up. "No! No! It's about you! You! I can't lead without you! I need you, Eragon! You've got to come back!"

"But you have to," Eragon whispered. "You're the leader now. So you must."

"No!" the pain escaped into his voice. He couldn't take it anymore. "You're not dead! There's no proof that your dead! I won't declare you dead!"

As he looked up, he saw such compassion on Eragon's face though no tears came. "Murtagh," he whispered mildly. It was a soft musical tone, not like Eragon at all, and yet like him so much. And he hadn't noticed it until now. It was different, and that made Murtagh wonder if he was really loosing it.

But Murtagh didn't care. If loosing it meant that he could see his brother, even in his dreams, then it was worth it. As long as he got to see his best friend.

"Murtagh," Eragon whispered. "It's been three months now. I can't come back to you, you know that! Let me go. Be happy and let me go."

The red rider's eyes widened. Horror and pain filled his face. Did Eragon _**want**_ to abandon him? "But Brom and Oromis came back!" Murtagh protested. "So why don't you?"

Immediately, Eragon's expression changed. First there was confusion and then recognition, like when he saw Murtagh for the first time. He pulled back slightly, in thought. The emotions he'd displayed had flashed across his face so fast that Murtagh had barely been able to see them, but he was sure of what he saw.

"Brother?" Murtagh questioned, and more unusual emotions were quickly displayed on Eragon. Once more was confusion, then recognition, like it was something long ago forgotten, like Eragon had known Murtagh's name but not his exact relation to Murtagh. And that made Murtagh wonder. Surely the dead didn't forget did they?

Eragon turned back to him, staring at Murtagh seriously. "Brom and Oromis?" he musically related carefully. The next title was forced, like he'd struggled to remember it. It reminded Murtagh of himself when he groped for memories that slipped through his fingers like water. "...Ebrithil... are you sure?" He gave Murtagh a steady stare, golden eyes that Murtagh hadn't noticed before piercing him.

Murtagh shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, almost feeling like a mouse trapped by a cat, even though Eragon had used the most soft tone in his questioning. It was the first time he was ever uncomfortable with his younger brother, almost like he could be harmed any moment. And so he shrank back, and standing up and stepping away, and when Eragon noticed this he backed up some. Slowly, Murtagh nodded his affirmation and once more Eragon seemed in thought.

The whole situation seemed too real for it to be a dream, and for a moment Murtagh wondered if this wasn't all in his head and he was in an actual conversation with his brother. 'This can't be in my head,' the red rider thought, staring carefully at his brother. 'This has to be him!'

And, softly, almost so silently that Murtagh couldn't hear him, he heard the blue rider murmuring in tones and a language that he didn't understand. Soon afterwords, though, he thought he heard, "Jane, what else haven't you told me?" Curiosity sparked in Murtagh, but Eragon seemed to notice this and went back to staring at him. Any questions Murtagh may have had were now silenced.

Carefully, like he didn't want to step across an unseen social boundary, Murtagh stepped forward, and Eragon stood unusually stalk still, letting him approach, seeming more like a stone monument than the real deal. "Eragon?" Murtagh questioned cautiously. "What happened to you? How did you die?"

No response came. Eragon stared down on him as he was now a few inches taller, and for a while he seemed to be studying Murtagh. "Is anyone else back?" he questioned Murtagh seriously and the red rider widened his eyes at the implications. 'If he's dead, surely he should know?' Murtagh thought incredulously, and for a moment he was relieved at the prospect that his brother could be alive.

"Shouldn't you know?" Murtagh challenged, determined to get Eragon to admit it. "After all, if you're dead then you should notice when other dead people leave the dead, right?"

Eragon remained eerily silent. "You're not really dead, are you?" Murtagh whispered, and Eragon raised his chin defiantly.

"You can't possibly expect me to keep track of the billions of dead, can you?" was the challenge back and Murtagh felt triumphant. His brother was alive! He had to be!

"You were close to Brom and Oromis. I'd think you'd be with them," Murtagh stepped closer and to his surprise, Eragon narrowed his eyes in a predatory like manner. It sent shivers down the red riders spine. But he was determined to win this battle of words, so he held his ground. "You would know if they went missing. You wouldn't be surprised to find that they're alive."

But his opponents eyes remained narrowed. Finally, they softened slightly, almost pitying Murtagh. "My heart no longer beats," he whispered softly, so softly that Murtagh barely heard.

Disbelief surged through Murtagh and he shook his head. "You lie!" Murtagh whispered back, and Eragon's eyes widened in pain. "I know you're alive! You have to be!" And as anger, hurt, and betrayal surged through him, Murtagh couldn't help the tears that went down his face. "You've abandoned me once again, why? You refuse to come back. Why?"

A sad look entered Eragon's eyes, and for a while, he said nothing. He searched Murtagh's face, and seemed almost ready to say something even though his mouth hadn't even opened, when suddenly Murtagh felt a pressure on his mind from the outside.

Immediately, Murtagh pushed his barriers out, wanting to keep the conversation private, but as he looked at Eragon he noticed that the blue rider was aware of the foreign presence trying to get in as well. The presence against his mind was gentle though. It remained respectfully on the outside, though it caressed him gently, and Murtagh realized that it was trying to bring him to the surface of his consciousness. But Murtagh wasn't ready to leave.

Eragon stepped back in departure. His eyes were gentle and kind once more, and he seemed pained for whatever he was about to say. "I'm dead to you, Murtagh," he whispered gently, like he was trying to get Murtagh to accept it. "Do _**not**_ come looking for me!" And with that he turned around and began walking away, slowly fading into the distance as Murtagh stood frozen.

"Wait!" Murtagh called out suddenly, and he rushed after him. "We're not done with this conversation! Eragon!" he painfully screamed, but clouds obscured the figure in the distance and the field vanished, leaving Murtagh floating amongst clouds. The last thing Eragon gave him was his voice saying softly, "Move on. Let me go. Be happy and move on." Then Eragon left him completely.

Murtagh fell to his knees, sobbing at his loss, even as the pressure on his mind remained. Now that Eragon was no longer with him, he could feel his absence as if it were a physical thing that he could sense. Tears flowed down his face. 'Why?' he thought to himself. 'Why are you abandoning me, Eragon? Why won't you come back to me?"

He remained sobbing like that for some time until it was too much to bear. Grasping his hair and pulling, he let out a disturbed scream of pain and anguish, and his mind raced to the surface. Murtagh woke to black consciousness screaming his lungs out from the emotional pain of his encounter, pulling on his hair as he sat up suddenly. He kept his eyes closed as he let the air out of his lungs.

Awareness came back to him as hands wrapped around his wrists and gently pulled his hands away from his hair as he continued to scream. Then he stopped, panting heavily, and opened his eyes.

A bright room lay in front of him, the hospital wing. He was in a soft cot, white sheets over him that had fallen back when he had sat up right and screamed. He fingered the cot as he looked around and as he looked down he noticed that he was still wearing the same thing from when he fainted.

The next thing he felt was disorientation. "What?" he asked, and was vaguely aware of a figure next to him. The room spun for a moment and the figure pushed him lightly back down, as if aware of how dizzy he suddenly was. Murtagh closed his eyes for a minute and then opened his eyes only to see Oromis standing above him, a calm but compassionate demeanor on his face.

Tears streamed down his face as he looked up, and he didn't care how weak he looked. The large room had paintings all over and he chose to focus on them instead of Oromis. Trying to calm his breathing down, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, the sobs coming to a stop.

"Murtagh," Oromis's gentle voice sounded and Murtagh opened his eyes once more, glancing up. Suddenly, the elf sat down and only then was Murtagh aware of the seat in the room that was beside him. As he took in more of his surroundings he noticed dressers, a wardrobe, several soft purple curtain at the window, and the shades partly pulled back. But they were kept mostly shut to allow him to sleep. All in all, it was the infirmary that he remembered.

His gaze returned to Oromis as his name was spoken once more. "Murtagh," Oromis summoned and this time Murtagh met his gaze, carefully composing his features again, putting the mask back on his face. 'Too late,' his mind told him. 'He's seen your pain.' But Murtagh was beyond caring anymore.

The elf eyed him carefully before continuing, his silver hair pulled back behind his shoulders. "I'd like to have a talk if you don't mind," he whispered softly, and Murtagh tensed at what that might mean. He eyed the elf carefully, wondering where this was going.

The red rider waited for the elder rider to speak. Finally, Oromis sighed and leaned back, a caring look on his face. "We're aware that you're going through a difficult time," the man began. "But that's no excuse to abuse yourself. Tell me, Murtagh. Have you been eating?"

Murtagh was silent for a moment and his heart began beating. 'They've discovered!' he thought. And, in the ancient language, to dissuade him, he answered, "Yes." After all, he had at least one meal.

Oromis once more carefully studied him. "Have you been eating all your meals?" Silence ensued after that and Murtagh didn't answer. He couldn't answer. Slowly, he lowered his gaze, all the while knowing that he was confirming Oromis's suspicions.

But the other rider wasn't done with him. "You're malnourished, Murtagh. You're body has been weakened because of this. People are concerned. If you are to care for the others as leader, you need to remain in the best health that you can."

Immediately, Murtagh tensed. "No!" he whispered, and began getting up, even though Oromis tried to push him down. "I don't want to be leader! I refuse!"

He gave Oromis the most pleading expression that he could and even Oromis blinked in surprise. "I don't want it! Take it from me! I resign! I hand it to you! I don't want it! I never wanted it!" Then he began sobbing, bringing his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth in a comforting manner.

"Murtagh!" Oromis lightly chastised. "You're not thinking straight. Perhaps, after you're rested and after your emotions settle, if you truly don't want it then, then we can discuss it then."

"No!" Murtagh shrieked grabbing his hair again and once more Oromis grabbed his wrists and pulled them away. "You're senior rider! You take it!"

"I'm just barely back from the dead, Murtagh," Oromis softly replied even as Murtagh sobbed. "There's no guarantee that I can remain in this world."

"No!" Murtagh refused further. "I won't do it! I need to search for Eragon! I need to find him!"

A gentle sigh escaped. "If you insist, then I'll take temporary leadership," Oromis finally gave in. "But only until you've recovered physically, mentally and emotionally. Understand, Murtagh, that just because I've come back doesn't mean that I have the privilege and right to take leadership. I don't know these young riders like you. You've been here all along, though."

"No!" Murtagh protested. "I won't do it! I give up! I leave the riders! I go to search for Eragon!" And with that, Murtagh tossed the covers and tried to stand up, though he was a little shaky.

"Murtagh," Oromis firmly commanded, standing up. "I'll take leadership on one condition. You need to let your brother go. You remain here and do your duty. No searching for Eragon."

At this Murtagh froze and he shook in shock at Oromis's declaration. "Don't you care?" Murtagh whispered. "He's alive! He has to be!"

"No, Murtagh," Oromis shook his head gently. "He can't be alive. Let him go."

"But you never saw him in the land of the dead, did you? And up until now, elves would never have believed in such a thing!"

Oromis stared him straight in the eyes. "I never saw him," he confirmed. "But that doesn't mean that he wasn't there. There were many that I didn't see." Gazing down at his hands, Oromis inspected his body like it was a miracle. No longer were he and Glaedr cripples. They were perfectly restored.

"But there were many there," he continued. "Too many to count. And out of the many, it appears that very few have come back. The chances of Eragon being able to return are slim."

A chocking sound escaped Murtagh and he shook his head, refusing to believe it. "That's because he never died!" Murtagh managed to say and Oromis stared at him curiously. "Eragon's alive! I know he is! I dreamed that he was alive!"

Why he said that, Murtagh didn't know, but he could see immediately that Oromis didn't believe him, and that hurt. There was compassion there, but no belief. "Murtagh," he murmured softly. "You've been going through an emotional time. You're not thinking straight."

"But I talked to Eragon!" Murtagh protested, frustrated at how easily it was dismissed.

"No," the elf murmured. "It was probably your mind playing tricks on you because of your desperation. You could not have seen Eragon."

Tears ran down Murtagh's eyes at this and he shook silently. 'You abandoned me to the point where others think I'm crazy?' he thought about his half brother, utterly depressed. 'Why would I want to live in this kind of environment where no one believes me?'

Almost instantly his eyes fell the mirror in front of him showing the balcony joining the infirmary, staring beyond Oromis. And it was then that Murtagh made up his mind and decided his final fate.

He reacted in an instant. Turning around, he launched himself to where he thought he could find relief. Thorn cried out in pain and panic but he ignored that, desperate to end his life.

But his reaction proved pointless for almost immediately Oromis had his arms around him, restraining him, once he realized what Murtagh was going to do.

Murtagh screeched. "Let. Me. Go!" he shouted and struggled against the elf as Oromis held him with surprising strength. The elf didn't relent. He continued to hold him fast even as Murtagh kicked and screamed, finally bringing him to the ground in a sitting position so that he could hold him.

A commotion was heard in the doorway as others rushed in, no doubt summoned by Oromis and Thorn. Brom rushed to Murtagh's side and helped to restrain the boy and Murtagh continued to cry out.

"Let me go!" he screeched more and struggled to get out of the grasp. Vaguely, he saw Vanir attempting to assist Oromis and Brom in restraining him. 'Just one little jump,' Murtagh thought. 'If I escape them and make just one little jump, then it will all be better.'

'No!' Thorn screamed into his mind, in pain. 'Murtagh don't! You don't know what it will do to me! Stop thinking that!' But Murtagh didn't reply and shut him out as he continued to scream.

"Murtagh," Oromis whispered into his ears softly and the rider's screams were muffled as Oromis put a hand over his mouth to block his shrieks. "Listen to me, Murtagh. You don't want to do this. You're just in a lot of stress and pain right now. You're not thinking straight. Stop struggling and I'll release you once I'm sure that you won't do anything of the sort again."

Murtagh screamed and continued to struggle, but then his screams turned to sobs and slowly, after crying for a bit, he relaxed his body, leaning back into Oromis's arms as he continued to cry. Oromis let him remain there, weeping, and finally, when he seemed calmed down mostly, he let him go.

As he lay there sobbing silently, Brom's soft voice was heard. Drowsiness overtook Murtagh and he immediately realized what was happening. 'No!' he thought as the enchantment took hold. 'I don't want to sleep! I want to remain awake!'

But his mind was no match for the spell, particularly in his weakened state. His body _**wanted**_ to sleep, and so his efforts proved useless as his eyes closed.

As he closed his eyes, he felt Thorn push his way back into his mind. 'Why?' Thorn asked in anguish, and he thought he felt his dragon weeping on the other end. 'Was I not good enough for you?'

Tears of sorrow were shed and Murtagh immediately regretted his hasty decision. That wasn't saying that he wasn't going to try a future attempt, but for now, he would hold off for Thorn's sake.

'Come back, Eragon,' was his last thoughts as he slipped into the abyss of sleep.

(Eragon Point of View)

Eragon opened his eyes. He had stood stalk still, in deep meditation, attempting to contact his brother. As he inhaled he smelled Saphira's scent near him, sleeping, and he sighed. It would do no good to wake her up.

He had just come back from his hunting trip and found that Saphira was still sleeping. It made sense, after all, he hadn't been gone that long. And so he had gone to her tent, a very big thing that the others had made quickly to accommodate her size, and it was there that he'd decided to sift through his muddy human memories. To his surprise, he was able to remember more now that he was putting in hard effort. Though he couldn't remember a whole lot.

The ancient language came back easily to him, as well as names and faces. There were five that seemed the most important to him though. They were Murtagh and Thorn, Roran, Arya and Firnen. Why, he didn't know, but he felt an unusual closeness to them.

But with Arya he felt nothing but confusion. It was as if something had happened between them in the past, like they had been in a relationship or something, but now Eragon wasn't entirely sure what he felt for her. He wasn't sure that it was romance, but more like a crush of sorts. It was like when a boy meets the first girl that he likes, but not serious enough to be love, only disguised as love to one who is new to the world of romance and doesn't understand the difference.

It was almost as if his human self had mistaken his feelings for her as love. But then they had separated and not met that often, so there was not that big of a bond there, other than his brotherly feelings for her. It was as if she were now more of a big sister now. That was how his view of the world had changed as a human without him realizing, and that seemed clearer now that he was a vampire. And, even more, it made him wonder what he felt for Jane.

Jane. She was something else. For one, she was like him, and she was pretty no doubt. But she was also intriguing. Sure, he was fascinated with her, and he didn't quite know why. Truth be told, he wasn't quite sure how he looked at her. Mentor? Friend? Teacher? Crush? Or maybe the beginning of something more, if she accepted it that is?

Eragon shook his head. It did no good to dwell on it, after all, Jane did not think of him in the same way. And so he would let it go for now until he could see that Jane would feel otherwise. It was almost like it was a painful lesson that he had learned in his previous life.

After he had reviewed his memories, he'd sent his mind into Alagaesia and immediately, he felt the strong distress of Murtagh. Surprised, and wondering what on earth could get him to be this distressed, he had attempted to touch minds with Murtagh.

Now that Eragon was a vampire, his mental sense that any Alagaesian could learn if they so chose to were increased. Before, he could just sense a mind and perhaps know who the person was if he was familiar with the mind.

But now, he could sense the brewing emotions of the person and could sense their personality, even if he didn't go into their minds and read their thoughts. Though that increased if he went into their mind, and immediately he would know their true name.

That said, vampires seemed immune to this, and Quileutes to. Why, he didn't know. But he assumed that it was the same reason that they were immune to magic, or rather magic didn't exist for them, except when a vampire magician created it out of the environment around them and brought it forth. Thus magical attacks wouldn't work on them.

But, from what Eragon could tell, only vampire, Quileute, and perhaps the capabilities of the children of the moon would work on them. But he wasn't aware of Quileutes having special gifts like vampires, and he knew next to nothing about the children of the moon.

According to Alec, some theorized it was because of the special "frequency" that vampires, Quileutes, and shape shifters ran on, a frequency that only they could access and use. Though their capabilities could affect others not of those three. Thus their abilities could affect anything and everyone.

That, and vampire capabilities were significantly more powerful than even the strongest magic that the strongest magician could do, therefore there powers were next to nothing to a vampires. It was more like child's play compared to what talented vampires could do.

For some reason, as his mind entered Alagaesia, he sensed that the Murtagh was in pain, that he had lost something and desperately needed closure. How he knew, he wasn't quite sure. But it was almost like Murtagh's mind had been telling the world the pain he was in.

As he felt his mind more, knowing that Murtagh wouldn't be able to sense him let alone detect him, he was surprised to feel the young man's longing for him and his companionship and friendship. He felt Murtagh's helplessness and grief associated with his disappearance.

Feeling the same way and needing some closure himself, Eragon thought to take a visit under the guise of a dream. And so, he closed his eyes and touched minds with the young man.

As he entered Murtagh's mind, he made sure to disguise the ruse as something that Murtagh might think up. Even though he didn't know much about how Murtagh thought, especially after his painful transformation, he was sure he could pull this off and help Murtagh let him go.

But then things turned downwards, and Murtagh _**had**_ to see through his ruse. And of course they were being interrupted by someone after that. So he left, hoping desperately that Murtagh would get the hint. He hated seeing his brother in pain like this (he'd finally remembered their connection).

With that done, he returned his mind to Alagaesia and opened his eyes, done with his meditating. Saphira, had been sleeping peacefully the whole time and though Eragon had been aware and cataloging it in his now vast mind, he hadn't really brought it forward more.

"Wonder what Saphira will think?" he asked himself aloud. But for now, he decided not to mention anything about the visit, especially since he didn't want Saphira to know that he'd broken the rules the Volturi outlined. Well, not broken, but toed the line more like it.

Still, it was probably close enough that Saphira would get nervous that Alec and Jane would figure it out. And, knowing Alec and Jane, they wouldn't take to kindly if they found out either, even if they couldn't do anything about it because he hadn't broken any laws. Technically speaking, of course. That, and he was going to admit it to them anyways.

The bottom line was that he didn't want Saphira to worry. But even then, he knew that she would find out eventually. But he was prepared to face that then, not now.

Saphira was still sleeping even though it was midday, being unusually tired, when Eragon decided to leave his tent and go out into the open. He was surprised at how tired she was. Normally she wasn't this tired.

There were many vampires playing cards, brought from another world. Which world, he didn't know, but then again, he was still adjusting to this life. And he still had many questions.

One of his questions was on the dead coming back to life. Growling to himself and earning a few looks from the other vampires and wolves, he stalked towards the alpha, Jane, and Alec's tent. He'd never met the alpha Emilie, but he'd heard about her. And right now he could tell that she was gone, out on another patrol more likely.

Jane and Alec weren't in conversation, but he heard them softly breathing, too soft for even elven, dwarfish, and urgal ears to hear, and pages of books turning rapidly.

That's the thing, vampires can do everything fast, and they can take in information fast. But most love to savor the words and will turn the pages slower than they need to. But even then, it was still too fast for a human, dwarf or elf, to read, and they only turned it faster because there were no humans, dwarfs, or elves here to discover their unusual speed and manners.

Despite the fact that he knew that it would anger them, he barged into the tent and growled. He knew that they had heard him approaching, but still, they ignored him, even when he growled. And so he snarled, letting his frustration and anger out at them, especially of how much they had kept from him.

He could handle it! So why hadn't they warned him before now? He was sure that they knew something. They always seemed to know something, that and they were always saying "later". A soft warning growl came from Jane without her looking at him, and Eragon narrowed his eyes at her.

"If your going to behave that way, newborn, don't expect us to listen," Alec warned. He was in the middle of reading a book standing up. Eragon could read some of the words because the other vampires had started his education as they were out hunting, and he found that it was easy for vampires to pick up languages, especially since they learned things so rapidly with their high intelligence and perfect memory recall. Already he could speak a lot of the language that the camp had called Latin. And that was what the book was in.

Jane meanwhile, was skimming through what they called a newspaper. What it said, he didn't know, especially since he hadn't learned that language yet. It was on a device they called technology, and it looked like glass. But as she moved her fingers slowly across it because the device wouldn't be able to keep up otherwise, he saw the words she was reading move around. She too was standing up.

The desk was still bare, but as Eragon waited patiently to be addressed, they continuing to ignore him, and he watched their every moves. Finally, when they were satisfied with him, Jane put her "glass sheet" down on the desk (as Eragon called it as he hadn't heard it's name yet). Alec walked over after shutting his book, leaving one finger in the page even though he could find it easily.

As Alec held the book and looked expectantly at Eragon, the newborn did his best to temper his anger, especially as he wanted answers. "I have questions," Eragon bluntly stated.

The two nodded as if this were expected. "And that was a reason to growl and snarl at us why?" Jane asked and to Eragon's surprise, she was being patient for once. Why, he didn't know, but he was grateful for it, especially since this might be a sensitive topic.

And honestly, Eragon didn't know what to say. He knew before coming here that he would probably get in trouble anyways, but he made sure that he'd found a way to word it to where he shouldn't get punished. But he was somewhat apprehensive still.

He chose to trudge onward. "I let my mind wander back to Alagaesia," he began, wondering if they would understand. But he was not surprised when they narrowed their eyes in understanding and disapproval. After all, they had encountered many magicians before and probably knew a lot more about magic than he did, even with all of his studies.

In fact, they probably knew more than the smartest, most talented magician out there as a vampire magician would only increase in skill, knowledge, power, and discovery. And with Alagaesia mentioned, this was dangerous ground he was treading. He would have to be careful with what he said.

"I didn't expose myself," he promised, even as their eyes remained narrowed. "But I did contact someone. But I made sure it was in a manner where he would assume it was all in his head. I made it appear like a dream," he explained. But they still didn't relent. In fact, Alec growled at him.

"Did he suspect anything?" Jane demanded and Eragon almost went into a crouch.

"He doesn't know what I am," Eragon reassured her. "He would never have heard of a vampire before." And he was defending himself at this point.

"But does he suspect anything?" Alec demanded as Eragon skirted the topic.

There was a pause. "Nothing that he can prove and put into play," Eragon whispered.

Immediately, Jane snarled and Eragon lowered into a defensive crouch as he hissed. "Of all things!" Jane reprimanded harshly. "And after we specifically told you _**not **_to!"

"But he doesn't know!" Eragon exclaimed and Alec growled at him. "All he thinks is that I'm still alive! He doesn't know that I'm any different than before."

As Alec placed a hand on Jane's shoulder she straightened, but with a snarl at Eragon. And after he was sure they wouldn't attack, especially volatile Jane, he came out of his crouch. "Still, that was a risky gamble," Alec reprimanded sharply and Eragon acknowledged his fault with a nod. "Even with that information, it can still do a lot of damage in the future, though you'd better hope not."

"I told him not to come looking for me," Eragon put in and Jane snarled some.

"That's practically an invitation for him to come looking for you," Jane growled.

"He won't!" Eragon protested but Jane and Alec didn't seem to believe him.

"You don't know that," Alec calmly replied. "Trust me, I've seen things in the many thousands of years that I've been alive. You may think this is harmless for now, but in the end it will only bring problems. You see, humans and other beings think differently from us. In time you shall see."

But Eragon didn't want to believe this. "No," he replied. "Besides, what was I supposed to do? Both he and I needed closure."

Jane shook her head sadly. "You didn't give him closure, Eragon," she whispered sadly, and strangely there was compassion in her tone for once. And it was the first time he'd ever been given sympathy from her.

Jane continued, "You only made things worse for him and only made him cling onto false hope perhaps. You only increased his wound and pain. You should have left him as is. You've only reopened his wounds."

If Eragon could have cried, he would have. "No," begged. "I did it to help him."

"A mistake others have made," Alec sympathetically responded, and his pity for Eragon was similar to Jane's. "Eragon we know this is hard for you, but in your attempt to do something right, you have done something wrong. Learn from this incident and let him go. Leave them alone. Give them a clean break."

Finally Eragon relented. Alec and Jane seemed half expecting him to leave as they were still somewhat upset and didn't want to hear more, but Eragon remained put. "I'm not done!" he demanded of them. To his surprise they waited patiently with him even though they were still somewhat frustrated with him, even with their compassion of him.

At this, Eragon paused as he waited to see their reactions. And Alec and Jane both narrowed their eyes. "There's more?" Alec inquired and Eragon nodded. This is what he'd wanted to talk about.

"Some things he said," Eragon explained carefully. "He talked about people coming back from the dead." And immediately Jane and Alec looked at each other in shock.

"Can't be," Alec breathed in surprise and worry. "Impossible, they're separated."

"Them to?" Jane wondered. And Eragon was feeling even more left out. His eyes appraised both of them but despite the fact that their eyes flickered to him and noticed his subtle movements, they continued to ignore him. Then, so fast that only a vampire could keep up, they began talking in a language that they _**knew**_ Eragon wouldn't be able to understand.

Once more, Eragon growled in frustration. "I'm here, you know!" he hissed, but this time they walked directly past him as if he didn't exist. And it was then that he realized that his newborn tendencies and aggression had gotten a hold of him.

No, they weren't going to listen to him when he was like that. It seemed that to them, it was almost as if he was throwing a tantrum like a two year old human, or what he remembered of them anyways. He would have to control himself before he got some answers.

And so, he stalked out of the tent going after them as he felt his Saphira awaken. 'Eragon?' she thought to him and Eragon sent reassurance through the link.

'There's something I need to take care of first,' he told her. 'And then I'll come see you. It's really important that I get some answers to this. If they'll give them to me, that is.'

As he continued to follow Jane and Alec into the surrounding forest, they continued to ignore him, talking in that foreign tongue. Finally, Eragon had had enough. "All right!" he submitted to them, flicking up beside them. "I apologize! I shouldn't have growled!"

Jane and Alec continued to talk, but there was a change in their demeanor. They seemed calmer, looser almost, and the young vampire rider was hopeful to get some answers.

Alec was the closest to Eragon and he turned his attention to the newborn. He appraised him first and for once their was approval in his eyes, surprising Eragon, and even Jane with this. "The newborn year is difficult," Alec conceded. "But you _**have**_ to learn to get control of yourself. Before we let you wander off without escorts we _**have**_ to know that you can contain yourself."

"It's like I'm a child being babysat," Eragon grumbled thinking back on the town he had spied when he had stolen some clothes. He'd remembered seeing young man and woman babysitting their younger siblings for their parents who had somewhere to go. He remembered seeing them wave their parents off. "I'm constantly guarded and watched."

"If it helps," Jane put in, and her eyes were softer, as if thinking back to the time when she was a newborn. "We've all been there. We know what it's like. And some have troubles controlling themselves even after the newborn year and have to be watched after that."

This made Eragon tense some. "Will it be that way for me?" he whispered in horror, glancing at Jane in hopes that she would deny it.

"It varies," Alec explained. "It differs from vampire to vampire, though I doubt it would be the case with you. You already have extraordinary self control, for the most part that is, especially for someone who didn't have a creator to teach him from the start. I think that you will master it quicker than most."

"It's still hard," Eragon shook his head as he thought through everything, though he relaxed when Alec mentioned his thoughts on how well Eragon was doing.

"Give it time," Jane promised and then she sped off, Alec and Eragon following. When they stopped, they were at a cliff overlooking a mirror. A clearing lay on the other side with beautiful flowers. It was the exact same place that the others had taken Eragon when they began his language lessons. And it was here that they were going to have the talk Eragon wanted.

The two seemed to be in deep thought as they looked out to the horizon, the sky high above them. Due to having no necklace, Eragon's skin sparkled in the light. 'I have so got to get one of those,' he thought to himself. But he watched as the two elder vampires wrestled with themselves, as if they weren't sure how much to say.

Finally, Jane began. "Were you told the fact that vampires have souls?" she asked. She glanced at Eragon as he nodded his head.

"I informed him of that, Jane," Alec replied and Jane nodded. That made Eragon wonder why he hadn't told Jane everything he had been informed about. But his mind wandered back to the topic after that while the lesser part cataloged that away for later.

"We don't have an after life per say," Jane explained. "We have more like what would be called "limbo". It's a place where the souls of those who are destroyed go.

"The Quileutes have something similar, the exact same places where the souls of those who would wander as spirit warriors would go back when they did those things. But it's different from ours. When a Quileute wolf "dies", that is where they go, to meditate their time away. And when a vampire dies, their souls go into limbo."

"We didn't always know about these things," Alec added. "It wasn't until later when it was discovered by a young female vampire. For some reason she was able to access limbo for the first time. She discovered it when a wolf had somehow stumbled across the realm of their ancestors and discovered the former wolves meditating.

"So she began to explore and try to find where the vampires went. But what she discovered was not an after life. It was simply a place separated by a veil, like how the Quileute's spirit realm is separated by a veil. By piercing this veil she was able to go there.

"And so started the days when vampires began to be able to come back from "the dead". As long as they could pierce the veil, their souls would return back to this world, fully perfected like when they were first turned. Not even a scar would be on them, even if they had many from battle. All their wounds would be intact as they constantly are perfected and repaired in that place.

"You see, they still fight there, especially since they're insane with thirst. But when they're torn apart or a limb is torn off, it reappears automatically on them. And if they go into the veil with one limb due to the limb being destroyed, it is restored to them.

"They have everything, all their eyes, all their hair, their hands, their feet, everything. And something similar happens to the Quileute wolves behind their veil.

"The downside was though all their memories of there and here were intact, they were practically newborns again that were crazy with thirst because they hadn't been able to feed while they were in limbo.

"As Quileutes began returning as more discovered how to pass by the veils and pierce them, and as vampires, some good, some bad returned, naturally it was only a matter of time before old quarrels were brought up again. Some moved on and were able to solve them, but not all were able to. Some had to be re-destroyed, and then destroyed again as they came back, and then destroyed again."

"The Volturi tried to set guards thinking it could only be accessed in the place where it was first discovered," Jane continued the story. "However that idea proved to be false for the veil could be pierced at any time and any place by any vampire, Quileute, or children of the moon who was trained.

"Though I don't think the children of the moon ever learned to tear the veil, for neither we nor the wolves would ever let them learn. And it's been proven that mortals and lesser immortals, such as elves and humans, dwarves, even dragons, are unable to pierce the veil.

"But as many began learning how to tear the veil and they could tear it from anywhere, it became impossible."

"And there were many Quileutes who chose to remain and meditate beyond their veil because only wolves go there. Where there mortal deceased go, we don't know. But if they lost their imprintee who wasn't a vampire or shape shifter, then they'd remain behind, forever in meditation," Alec added as an after thought as Eragon listened quietly, stalk still.

And Eragon frowned. "So you have no idea where the human souls go, or the urgals, or elves, or dwarfs?" And not surprisingly, Jane and Alec shook their head.

"Though, after hearing what you said, we can assume that they are behind another veil that hasn't been explored. Though I doubt all those species are behind the same veil," Jane guessed.

But there was also a lot that didn't make sense. "So what does this have to do with everyone coming back?" Eragon asked. "And why wasn't I told about this before?

"You weren't told because you weren't ready," Alec explained. Then Jane took Eragon's hand with surprising gentleness, and as she touched the air, power hummed from her hand gently, and suddenly Eragon could feel something there. The air shimmered in front of him like water, and Eragon knew immediately that she had touched the vampire veil.

"Each veil has a different feel," Jane explained. And Eragon, curious enough, tried the same thing. But now power came from him as Jane had taught him how to touch the veil.

"You must first feel the veil, Eragon," Alec explained and this time, Eragon chose to try to feel what he had felt before. To his surprise, he could. But his hand still passed through the air like it was nothing, and as Jane and Alec watched him, he realized that they were waiting for him to figure it out.

So, taking a deep breath, he tried to feel the veil again. This time, as he willed with his mind, he found himself able to touch it. And he was able to. Now, wanting to see if he could, he tried to tear through it.

A hole opened up in front of him, and a whole other world was seen behind it, not the canyon in front of him but snow and tundra. Gasping, and seeing something in the distance, Alec thrust him back and with ease repaired the veil.

"Never leave the veil opened," he cautioned. "You never know who or what is going to come out. Though, from what we know from others, vampires are the most powerful there. But still, a bloodthirsty vampire? Not a good idea to bring one out. Most vampires are destroyed for a reason, you see. But not all."

And Eragon couldn't help but agree not to leave the veil open, but not with the other half. You couldn't judge everyone just because they were destroyed. But he didn't say anything.

"It's the same way we cross worlds," Jane explained and took his hand, forcing him to feel the veil that separates worlds. "But it's a different kind a veil. When you're ready, we'll teach you that one to, but for now focus on our veil."

A thought came into Eragon's mind, and he couldn't help but voice his question. "Can you pierce the veil of the Quileutes?"

"Yes," was the solemn response from Alec. "Though not many do. Usually, only a husband or wife will to bring their loved ones back. They can pierce our veil to. Either of us can pierce the veil of the children of the moon to, but that's prohibited.

"And as courtesy, we generally don't pierce the veil of the Quileutes and they generally return the same courtesy. And we absolutely do _**not**_ enter their veil even though we can. That's a violation of manners. They expect the same in return."

"So," Eragon frowned. "Theoretically, someone could be piercing the veil of the humans and elves." Then he turned to look at Jane and Alec. "Why did no one mention this?"

"Because it's unheard of," Jane replied. "Most view humans, dragons, elves, dwarfs, and urgals as food. That, and even elves are lesser immortals. It's puzzling and confusing that someone would want to. Though, as an after though, more than likely their veil does lead to an after life."

"Ah," Eragon nodded in acknowledgment, happy to get the knowledge and that they were being up front with him, for now that is. But, strangely enough, he was starting to trust these strangers and feel like he fit into this temporary coven alliance, even though he missed home sorely.

And so he had reached one of his other questions. "Others keep mentioning trouble," Eragon asked, looking expectantly and Alec and Jane raised their eyebrows.

"What have you heard?" Alec asked.

Eragon shrugged. "Not much. Only something about vampire trouble makers."

And at this Alec sighed. "Not all vampires are good, you know. We have criminals in our society to." And with that Jane and Alec left him, that ominous warning left ringing in Eragon's mind. But they stopped in the distance in vampire sight, waiting for him to catch up.

"Vampire criminals," Eragon whispered before catching up with Jane and Alec then running back to camp with them, all the while wondering what Jane and Alec were implying. Whatever it was, it wasn't something they were ready to entrust him with. And they'd ignored his whispering even though they would have been able to hear it.

But he couldn't help but wonder if that was another reason they didn't leave him alone.

(Murtagh Point of View)

His mind wandered in blackness once more. As he wandered around he desperately hoped that Eragon would come to visit him again. But no such wish was granted. Finally, having had enough sleep in his eyes, he pushed forward to consciousness.

At first, he was held down by some force which he recognized as magic. And so, he went back to wallowing in the darkness, pitying himself. How much time had passed, he didn't know. But finally he tried again, and this time he was allowed to return.

Murtagh gasped as he woke up. He was in a different room, and this one had dark green curtains. There was no balcony or any access to the outside world in this room. In fact, it appeared to be a guest chamber instead of a rider's chamber. No paintings were in this room, and it was pretty bare except for the basic necessities. Not even a desk was in this room. But it did have wardrobe.

Brom was sitting in the chair in the far corner, fast asleep. No doubt the man was sent to keep an eye on Murtagh and the boy wondered briefly what would happen if Oromis caught him sleeping on the job. But it also upset Murtagh some.

'I don't need to be babysat!' he grumbled in his thoughts, and for a moment he wondered if Thorn had heard. But the dragon was nowhere in reach. Realizing that Thorn must be off hunting, he sighed and threw the green covers off of him, getting up and stretching.

Immediately, Brom stirred. Murtagh was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked Murtagh as the boy tried to move towards the door. And he rushed over to Murtagh's side, almost ready to restrain him if necessary.

The red rider raised one eyebrow. "Am I a prisoner here?" he inquired and Brom seemed hesitant. Then he seemed careful with how he was going to word things.

"No," he finally answered. "But Oromis gave me orders not to let you out of sight. We don't want you to end up doing something like last time."

Murtagh sighed, hand still on the doorknob. "Can I leave then?" he demanded. "And does that mean that Oromis and I are in agreement? He'll take leadership from me?" His tone sounded hopeful and Brom seemed surprised at the amount of desperation in his voice.

"Stay in the room for now," Brom commanded. "And yes, considering your state of mind and emotions, Oromis has agreed to take control of the riders. **_For now_**." And Murtagh couldn't help but know how Brom had emphasized the "for now" part.

"Good," Murtagh gave a satisfied nod. "I never wanted it."

Brom was eyeing him at this point and Murtagh moved over to the bed and sat down. All the while Brom watched him, gauging his mood and such. There was awkward silence. "So," Murtagh broke the ice. "Where's Thorn? I can't sense him. I can't feel him."

And he received a stern look in return. "Your actions really shook him, Murtagh," Brom chastised rather gently in a gruff tone. "Saphira and Glaedr took him out. He was distraught so they went away so that he could vent his emotions. He was traumatized by what you nearly did."

Guilt flooded Murtagh and the boy was speechless. "I never intended to do that to him," he whispered and Brom sighed, sitting back down in his chair.

"You didn't think things through," Brom murmured softly. "You're not thinking straight, Murtagh. You need help. That's why Oromis is going to have someone with you at all times. Everyone's worried about it. Even queen Arya was distressed when she heard."

Murtagh looked away and refused to eye Brom. "He didn't believe me," he finally whispered and when Brom looked confused, Murtagh knew that he would have to explain. "I told Oromis that Eragon was alive." But Brom didn't seem to believe him either, though he did look saddened.

"Look," Brom gently told Murtagh. "Eragon is dead, and there's nothing that you or I can do about it. He may or may not be able to come back. So far, Oromis, Glaedr, Saphira and I are the first. Though others have been popping up, but not many. Perhaps he won't be able to."

"No," Murtagh disagreed and he really, really wanted Brom to believe him. Surely the father of his best friend would understand this? "Eragon never died," Murtagh continued. "He's alive!"

Brom seemed hesitant but there still wasn't belief in his features. "Murtagh-" he began but the boy cut him off, not about to have another Oromis situation.

"I talked to him!" the red rider exclaimed and Brom's features were visually surprised. "He's not dead! I had an actual conversation with him!"

A curious look was now on Brom's face. "When was this?" he asked and Murtagh hesitated before admitting, "Before I woke up the first time, actually. I tried to tell master Oromis, but he wouldn't believe me! He said it was all in my head! But I know what I saw in my dream!"

"Dream," Brom echoed, and this time there was skepticism in his voice. "Murtagh, I think-"

"No!" Murtagh shouted in desperation. "Not you to! I know what I saw! He contacted me in my dreams! He-" the boy continued to rant only to be cut off by Brom who got up and gently put a hand on his shoulders in an attempt to calm him down and reason with him.

"That couldn't have been Eragon, Murtagh." And Murtagh felt the tears coming again. No one was going to believe him, it seemed. Brom continued, "You've been so desperate for him that it's not surprising that you would dream about him. Let him go."

"You don't understand!" Murtagh pled, and this time there were tears. "I saw him!"

"No," Brom replied softly. "It's time to let him go." And this only caused Murtagh to shrug his hand off of his shoulder. Silently, he turned away and wept. 'No one believes me,' he thought. 'I have to find Eragon and prove them wrong.'

Brom let him rest after that, but Murtagh refused to go back to bed even though he felt shaky. When someone came in around mid day and brought him food, he refused to eat it, letting it stay on the table beside him. That was until Brom brought the tray over.

"Eat," he demanded gruffly and Murtagh looked away, instead going to sit in a corner between the wardrobe and the wall. Brom sighed and brought it over there, but when Murtagh began to get up in order to walk away Brom threatened, "If you don't eat, I'll force you. And believe me, I can force you, but you don't want that. Especially if you want to keep your dignity."

A sigh escaped the younger and he replied, "I'm not hungry." But when Brom began to force him to open his mouth to eat, using magic, and Murtagh protested, he managed to shout out, "All right! I'll eat of my own accord!" And Brom kept a careful eye on him to make sure that he did.

Murtagh was about to go to the separate room that was used as a bathroom in order to get rid of the food, but Brom had anticipated this and blocked it off with magic. When Murtagh found that his magic wasn't strong enough to pierce Brom's wards, he sighed and relented, going back to sit by the wardrobe and the wall.

No one else bothered them that day. It was just him and Brom for that shift. Brom didn't bother him as he had paperwork to work on, things that had once been Murtagh's responsibility, and Murtagh continually ignored him. Finally, Murtagh felt the presence of his dragon return. When Brom lifted his head from his work, Murtagh immediately knew that Saphira had returned as well.

'Murtagh?' Thorn warily summoned and Murtagh could feel his dragon's exhaustion and hesitation. But he was grateful to have his dragon back with him, in a way.

'Thorn!' he greeted back, but kept his enthusiasm contained. And at the feeling in his tone, Thorn became somewhat excited again, that was until he felt that it was from the frustration and distress that Murtagh was going through.

'What's wrong?' his dragon asked, concern on the other end.

However, Murtagh knew what he needed to do first before he even addressed his dragon's question. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered through the link. 'I wasn't thinking. I was distracted and distressed at the time, and I shouldn't have reacted on my emotions.'

Various feelings were portrayed through the link. Gratitude was one, and sorrow and fear was another. He could also feel his dragon's concern amplified. But he also felt the love that his dragon had for him. And somehow, Murtagh had never realized that his dragon loved him that much.

He'd always known that Thorn loved him, but he'd never felt such a concentrated dose before, and it almost made him tear up in front of Brom. 'Murtagh,' his dragon whispered. 'I was so worried! I've been worried. Every day I've been worried that I'm going to lose you! You don't know what that's done to me!'

As he was immediately flooded with guilt, Murtagh felt his chest contract at the emotion. Brom glanced over at him, but he looked away. 'I should have thought about how it would affect you,' Murtagh whispered back to him, and he felt Thorn wrap him in a mental hug.

For once, Murtagh felt peace wash over him, as he was battling his own distress and pain. Then he realized it was Thorn sending peace over as it wasn't his own. In that instant, he was also aware that Thorn felt the increase of his stress.

'What's wrong?' the dragon asked again, and slowly, Murtagh related what he had gone through with Oromis, the driving force that had temporarily pushed him over edge. And to his annoyance he felt his dragon's gratitude towards Oromis for preventing that.

Murtagh then related how Brom had forced him to sleep and when he had been allowed to wake up Brom had told him the change in leadership. 'They're babysitting me,' he grumbled to Thorn and the dragon huffed at this. Instantly, Murtagh knew that Thorn wasn't going to contradict their decision.

'Good!' he told the rider. 'You need it, especially after what you nearly did.'

After wincing, Murtagh continued with his story, including how he'd tried to relate to Brom that his son was alive. But like with Oromis, Brom refused to believe, especially after he heard it was from a dream. And he knew that Thorn felt the pain Murtagh felt at not being believed.

But, to his horror, Thorn seemed to side with Brom and Oromis. 'It can't have been!' Thorn exclaimed and when Murtagh felt the sorrow and pain creeping in, Thorn did his best to alleviate it by sending reassurance and love through the link. 'You've been distressed. You're desperate for something!'

'But!' Murtagh exclaimed, and this had to be what pained him the most, that his beloved dragon didn't believe him. 'People can communicate in dreams!' He tried a different avenue this time, willing his dragon to believe. 'And it was too real to be a dream.'

Softly, very gently, Murtagh opened the deepest parts of his mind to his dragon and showed him the dream. Already it was seeming unusual and highly unreal as he thought back on it, but part of Murtagh still hoped and refused to accept it as fantasy. It was still real to him.

As Thorn watched the memory, Murtagh felt a puzzled air creep over him. And doubts and questions began sweeping into his dragon, but thankfully not doubts as to whether or not it was real.

'It does seem like a communication to me,' Thorn began, the feeling of being perplexed permeating his mind and through the link clear to Murtagh. 'But that doesn't mean that that was Eragon. He seems... different. And yet the same. But there are differences. Perhaps it was someone else.'

'No!' Murtagh immediately protested. He was not about to have a disagreement right when he'd gotten his dragon to confess that the dream was indeed a communication of sorts. 'It was him.'

'Maybe,' Thorn conceded, but he seemed skeptical at that. 'I don't know. I've never seen anything like this before. And what's strange is that there is no magic associated with it. How, I don't know. But it seems highly unusual.' Thorn's tone turned serious then. 'I'd stay away from this, Murtagh.'

Even with his dragon's caution, even with Brom and Oromis's skepticism, even with everyone seemingly against, him, Murtagh was still determined to solve this. The gears in his head began turning, and as Thorn saw where he was going with this, fear began seeping across the link.

'Murtagh, no!' he protested but the red rider wasn't listening. 'Think about it!' his dragon then pled, and as Brom began staring at him seriously, Murtagh realized that Thorn might be communicating something with Saphira who then in turn told Brom. And now Brom was eyeing him.

'I have to find him,' Murtagh whispered softly to Thorn, almost begging him to understand.

'But you don't understand!' Thorn exclaimed. 'There's nothing to find! Besides, didn't this Eragon impersonator tell you _**not**_ to come looking for him?'

Frustration seeped through the bond fueled from Murtagh's desperation. 'He might be held captive! Maybe it's his way of saying that he's a hostage to someone!'

'In which case it's a trap for you!' Thorn explained. And his tone turned into pleading. 'Murtagh, please don't go! Please, stay here and get better and let your brother go!'

Shock ran through Murtagh. Here, the one he was bonded to was pleading for him to let his little brother go? The one who might be in danger? The one Murtagh was desperate to rescue? And he knew he had to say something, for Thorn was in communication with Saphira and probably Brom, who had now moved to the doorway and was speaking in urgent tones that Murtagh couldn't hear.

He couldn't risk being held a prisoner, not if he was to rescue Eragon. And with Thorn not on his side with this and in communication with others, he was left all alone until he could figure out an appropriate argument with which to convince Thorn to take him along.

Resignation flew through him at this point. He was defeated, he knew that. For now, there was nothing he could do. For now that is. And so, he bowed to Thorn's pleadings, unwilling to risk a confrontation with his dragon, especially after what the last one did to him.

'All right,' he whispered back, and Thorn relaxed some. Brom did to, and Murtagh realized that Thorn had indeed been feeding him information. 'But I need some rest now. Both your emotions and mine are wild. I'm going to cut off the link for a bit so that I can try to sleep. Don't panic I won't do anything.' And he promised the same in the ancient language.

Thorn relaxed more at his declaration, and Murtagh cut them off briefly, walking over to the bed and laying down, tears in his eyes. He may have his dragon fooled for now, but he knew that eventually Thorn would realize that he still harbored intentions to find Eragon.

'And once he realizes, I'll need a way to convince him to help me look for him,' Murtagh thought. 'It would be good to have him along with me because we can cover a lot more ground.'

That and he doubted he'd have any other transportation, other than his feet if he didn't have Thorn willingly taking him around to track his brother.

Brom was still watching him carefully, and Murtagh couldn't help but feel betrayed that Thorn had been passing so much information from a private conversation. It betrayed his trust a bit, though in a way he understood it. Thorn was concerned and he wanted to make sure that his rider was all right.

Still, he wondered how much Thorn had actually related. Surely he didn't mention the dream? And if so, how much? Murtagh secretly hoped not. That was private and personal.

And then there was the issue of Brom babysitting him. 'Well,' Murtagh thought to himself. 'If he's here, may as well put him to good use.'

And so he rolled on his side and stared at Brom. The man raised his eyebrows. Hesitant, and wondering if he really wanted to know and really wanted this done, he asked, "Before, when you put me to sleep the first time, how did you do that?"

Surprise came on the man's features, and then suspicion. "Why do you ask?" Brom wanted to know. After all, even Murtagh realized that it might be useful in an escape attempt.

'Dang!' Murtagh thought. 'He's thought of every avenue I might try!' But he also had one other reason, or excuse rather, to ask this.

"Because," Murtagh watched him carefully back. And he was careful with his words at that point. "I was wondering what that was. That, and I'd like it done again. It might help me sleep some. I feel restless a bit. I think it might help."

Brom's suspicions visibly eased and he seemed more willing to answer Murtagh after this. "It was as simple spell," he explained, then gave the name and how it worked, but not surprisingly he didn't give Murtagh the words to the spell. Oh well, he could look it up later. And already, a silent plan B was forming in the event that people wouldn't allow him to leave to look for his brother.

"But would it actually help me relax some? To get some rest?" Murtagh demanded softly. "I feel like my soul is raging, like it's not calm. I need something to help me out."

"As for calming your soul, I don't think so," Brom expounded further. "That's a personal issue. But it should help you sleep some until you're in a calmer state. Then it will let you up."

'That explains why I wasn't able to wake up the first time,' Murtagh noted to himself.

"But it will put you to sleep for a bit, regardless," Brom continued.

Murtagh nodded. And he was hesitant once more, partly because he didn't necessarily like having a spell used on him. It brought back too many bad memories for one. But he also knew that it was necessary, especially if he was to fulfill his promise to Thorn. And if he was going to leave anytime soon, he needed his rest.

So there was only one thing left to do. "...Will you?" Murtagh asked, though it was in an uncertain tone, as if he was somewhat uncomfortable with the idea. He let his intention trail off, all the while knowing that Brom would know what he was asking for.

Fortunately Brom didn't notice his discomfort. He merely nodded. Whispering in a too soft to hear and in a gentle tone, he spoke the words of the enchantment and Murtagh felt his eyes drifting off promising a deep sleep. And he welcomed it for it had been a long time since he'd slept deeply, long, and well. And strangely, he looked forward to a rejuvenating sleep.

"Sleep well," he heard Brom whisper to him as he drifted off, and he was surprised at the fatherly tone that filled it. He was grateful for that as well.

And so, Murtagh softly fell into the darkness.

**All right, I know that this chapter was a bit angsty, but it was necessary to show how far Murtagh has gone into a depression. After all, it will be a driving force of sorts for him in the future.**

**So I've had only 25 views to this story so far, but no one has reviewed. **

_**If you are reading this, please, PLEASE review! **_

**Reviewing, after all, is a courtesy.**

**Firestar'sniece**


	4. Chapter 4: Belated Search and Rescue

**I don't own Inheritance Cycle and Twilight.**

Chapter Four: Belated Search and Rescue

(Murtagh Point of View)

The enchanted dream state lasted longer than Murtagh thought it would, and truth be told it was calming to him. But even then, his soul warred within him, and his desperation never waned.

Not a few months after the war ended, Nasuada had summoned Eragon and as the only other dragon rider then besides Arya, he had accompanied his brother. It had been a tough time for him, but in the end he got to see his brother rewarded belatedly for his service in the war. And Nasuada had released him from his vassal ship so that he could fulfill his duty as dragon rider.

Even though he had had feelings for Nasuada, it disturbed him that she had to be probed and even politically threatened by Arya before Nasuada would release such restraints on him. After all, dragon riders weren't meant to belong to one people, but all. But, since her capture, she had been more demanding and demanding against magic, and so restrictive and oppressive towards those who had it, that many had begun fleeing the boarders of her country.

At first she had tried to stop them and keep them contained, but after pressure from all the other nations, and surprisingly Sudra, she had grudgingly allowed it. And so, because of that, and her paranoia which kept increasing, it had taken a lot to convince her to let go of Eragon.

Though Murtagh didn't dare admit it as he had feelings for her, this was partly what broke them apart. After all, people couldn't help if they had magic. He'd tried to convince her not to automatically condemn someone just because they had the gift, but to no avail.

"After all, did not many magicians serve you faithfully?" he pled with her. "But now you turn your backs on them and they flee from you in fear." However his pleading had been in vain.

"Do not tell me what to do!" she snapped. "I am your queen!"

His heart broke within him and he knew what he had to do. "But you are not," he pointed out. "I have no citizenship in this kingdom, for I am a dragon rider and am to serve all races." And with that he had left her in what she'd hoped to call Illeria but the people had rejected the name, hoping to start anew and with a different name now that the war was over.

But she had become so oppressive on them that many magicians feared she would become another Galbatorix, this time towards magic.

Angela had visited them in the dragon stronghold after that, and she was surprisingly allowed to stay. "Can't say I told you so!" she cheerfully told him and Eragon, and Eragon was admittedly puzzled at her remarks.

"You're saying you'd seen this coming?" he'd inquired of her.

"Well of course!" she snapped back. "And if you'd had eyes to see, you would have to and would not have supported her appointment as queen. I tell you, there is another war coming. It may take place soon, or it may take place in a few hundred years, but it's inevitable now."

And with that ominous message she had marched off.

Despite that and that war between magic and non magic seemed to be inevitable, Nasuada had slightly snapped out of it when Eragon went missing, remembering her former friendship with him. But now that she had withdrawn the search, she was once more back to her anti magic agenda, and that was causing the dragon riders trouble.

As of now, there was tension between her and the dragon riders because the dragon riders had supported to let any magician leave the land who wanted to flee her wrath. That, and she knew that they had magic and power and clout, and she feared it.

'She's not the same,' he thought. He'd heard before when he was Galbatorix's prisoner that she didn't like magic, but for a while he chose not to believe it. And, disturbingly, her being held captive by a mad king had done something to her, and she was against magic more than before, even if a person didn't have that much power to even harm someone with.

It was because of this he somewhat pitied Oromis having to take over his post. After all, he had missed out a lot.

And yet his newest plan to track down Eragon would undoubtedly put him in Nasuada's kingdom, for there was a certain someone he needed to speak to there. On his way he would pass the dwarfs, and though he was reluctant at first, he was considering meeting with king Orik. There was something he needed to discuss with him.

As Murtagh woke up, this time seeing Vanir in the room, he composed the shield around his mind. But when he saw his thoughts were in no danger then he allowed his mind to wander again.

Vanir was wearing leggings and a brown tunic with certain words in the ancient language cross stitched around the wrists of his garment. What it was, Murtagh didn't care to look. But the elf was watching him closely, suspiciously.

Murtagh chose to initiate the standard greetings in order to hopefully get suspicion off him. But even though they both exchanged greetings, the elf was still wary of him, especially after his suicide attempt. One thing was for sure, shaking them off his back was going to be hard.

As he walked toward the door, the elf ran in front of him, blocking him. Murtagh frowned. "Where are you going?" Vanir demanded.

Murtagh sighed. "I'm going to see Thorn. In person." He watched as the elf deliberated, and after considering carefully, Vanir sighed.

"Very well," the elf grunted, as if it wasn't his first choice. "But I'm going with you."

The red rider knew better than to object for it would only cause suspicion on him. That and since he would be speaking mind to mind with Thorn, it wasn't as if anyone else would hear the conversation, that is unless Thorn chose to leak parts of it out like last time. And Murtagh grimaced at this. That was another problem entirely that he would have to face.

As he walked down the familiar hallways, Vanir by his side watching his every step, Murtagh began debating in his mind on how to convince Thorn to travel with him. He had an idea, but it would involve deception, and he had no wish to do that to his dragon. The only other option was to travel alone, but that would take forever on land. That was unless he could come up with a reasonable excuse that Thorn would agree to, all the while at least being somewhat honest with the dragon.

And then there was the problem of escaping. Murtagh knew that the moment they left a search party would be sent after them, and if they were caught he would be detained even further. There would be no way he could escape after that. He had one shot, and that was all he would have.

That was if he could convince Thorn to begin with. But now there was no turning back for he had just reached the dragon hold of the second in command dragon, Thorn. (He had resided there even when Murtagh was made leader and he lead dragon just as much as Murtagh had resided in the second in command room even when he was leader). And as Vanir stepped in, Murtagh made sure to keep his emotions in control to not give away anything that could later be used against him.

Thorn was not there, but as Murtagh cast out his mind his sensed his dragon swiftly speeding back. A small smile graced his lips as he saw Thorn land, and the dragon greeted him happily. 'Murtagh!' he exclaimed and the boy stepped up to his dragon to caress and hug him. As he glanced back briefly he saw that a small smile had also touched Vanir's lips.

'Thorn!' he greeted with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. 'How are you?'

'Good now that I've had fresh kill to feed my belly,' the dragon grumbled at that and purred somewhat. And as the dragon settled down Murtagh sat beside him, leaning back. 'What about you?' was his concerned question back, and there was an emotion underlying it that Murtagh couldn't identify. And it was because of this that he began to tread cautiously.

'I've rested some,' Murtagh began, frowning as he delayed the conversation that he wanted, and Thorn grew restless some as he sensed this.

'But what is this really about?' Thorn asked, straight and to the point, and Murtagh almost winced. But he caught himself for he couldn't afford to give anything away to Vanir who would tell the others. And the others would just use it as an excuse to keep him contained and under watch further.

A long silence went between him as Murtagh carefully composed his thoughts so that he could convince Thorn to go on a journey with him. Finally, after coming up with the most convincing and persuading argument he could, he asked, 'Promise that this will just stay between us, Thorn?'

And his dragon hesitated. 'I can't promise that,' Thorn sadly replied firmly after much consideration, and Murtagh felt disappointed that his dragon's faith and trust in him was so little.

Murtagh sighed through the link. 'Then I won't discuss it. It's of a personal nature.'

This time Thorn whimpered some. 'You used to trust me with everything!' the dragon complained, slightly hurt, and Murtagh, though he felt guilty about it, let his own hurt seep through the link. He wasn't sure, but guilt tripping Thorn might work.

'And you used to keep our conversations private!' Murtagh lightly accused, using his genuine hurt to try to convey the message. 'But lately you leak things to others!'

'For your own good!' the dragon responded back. And Murtagh turned away as tears ran down his face. He didn't want to do this, but this needed to be addressed.

'And you betray my trust,' Murtagh whispered through the link. 'How can you honestly expect me to trust you when you do such a thing? I need to know that I can trust you.'

'But you can trust me!' Thorn tried to convince him. But that wasn't good enough.

'Prove it!' Murtagh challenged, and he made sure Thorn would know that he wouldn't relent in the matter. And he also felt a wave of frustration from Thorn.

The dragon growled and Vanir raised an eyebrow. 'Very well,' the dragon finally conceded. And in the ancient language the dragon promised, 'I will not tell anyone what you shall say, nor will I hint it. That doesn't mean that I will agree with you though.'

And Murtagh relaxed at this. This was what he was hoping for. And so, carefully proceeding forward, he said, 'That dream still disturbs me.'

Thorn froze. And, seeing the dragon's reaction, Vanir seemed almost poised to get someone, none the less he stayed where he was at until he was sure that he should intervene or get someone to intervene in the situation. And Thorn proceeded carefully. 'What is that you're trying to say?' Thorn then questioned and Murtagh shrugged.

'I'm saying that I have a well shielded mind. You know that. So how then was that person, whether Eragon or not, able to breach my defenses? Even at my weakest moments I am strong. I have perfected the art of shielding, especially after what Galbatorix did to us.'

Thorn relaxed at the direction of the conversation some, but even then he was still stressed and tensed at the implications of what Murtagh was implying. For while Murtagh knew that Thorn wouldn't outright accompany him on a mission directly involved in getting Eragon, yet if he could indirectly search for him by searching for something related, and if that in turn would lead him to Eragon, then it couldn't be helped and would be welcomed.

The dragon was deep in thought. 'A disturbing thought,' he agreed. 'And one that I'd never thought of.' He turned his head to where one great big eye looked directly into Murtagh's soul, and Murtagh shifted somewhat uncomfortably. 'It is one that I have no answer to though.'

'Which means it could happen again!' Murtagh leaned back in distress. 'If my mind is not secure, then how shall I live? In constant fear? Or what shall I do to strengthen my mind?'

'That, I do not know,' Thorn confessed. And the dragon also fidgeted uncomfortably.

'And you have no idea as to what could have caused it, as to what could have made it to where someone could have breached my mind? After all, if they can pierce my mind, they can pierce yours. And if they can pierce mine and yours, they can pierce anyone's.'

'True enough,' the dragon conceded uncomfortably. 'But, alas, I have no answers. I can only guess, and right now I can only take a stab in the dark. But what I do know, and what I felt, was that magic was not involved. And yet it appears that we are dealing with something powerful. But what could possibly be more powerful than magic? All the strongest beings we've come across have magic.'

'Indeed,' Murtagh agreed. 'Which is why we need answers so that this doesn't happen again.'

And a huff of impatience escaped Thorn at this. 'Why not ask Brom and Oromis?' he pressed. 'If you had not bound me with this silly promise, we could have asked them.'

'Because they will not hear it,' Murtagh explained. 'And I will not be mocked and unbelieved again. No, I've had quite enough of that.'

'But they may know something...' Thorn trailed off, and Murtagh physically shook his head.

'I doubt that,' he whispered through the link.

'But if we could just tell them!' Thorn pressed. 'They'll believe you if I stand by you!'

'No!' Murtagh growled. 'They won't, and I don't want to go in deeper with them. They'll only bind me further! That, and that conversation with that Eragon was private. I want that kept quiet.'

The dragon sighed. 'Then there is nothing more that we can do.'

'Oh?' Murtagh challenged. And here he had reached the convincing point he knew. 'But there is!'

'And?' Thorn challenged, willing to hear it out almost. And Murtagh deliberately paused.

'We can research,' he finally concluded. 'But not here. I don't want this reaching their attention. They're already babysitting me as is.'

'For your own good,' Thorn remarked off offhandedly. 'But you're suggesting leaving. You know that they won't allow that. At least not with the state your in, or the state you've been in.'

'Which means that we'll have to leave quietly,' Murtagh concluded, and Thorn was wary once more. He almost seemed to revert to his previous sentiments.

There was silence for a minute. And then Thorn hesitated, 'I don't know, Murtagh. I'm not sure that I want to leave what with the state you've been in. Can't we just tell them and let them help us?'

'And have them order me to stop my research when they find out? Not even you will be able to convince them, Thorn. And if we stay here and try to figure it out, they will stop us, supposedly for my own good. No, this research can't be done here. The only way to do it is to do the research away from them. That way they can't stop us.'

And Thorn was still wary. 'I don't know,' he replied once more. And it was almost as if he was suspicious of Murtagh. 'I can protect you while you're here, you know.'

'Can you?' Murtagh then challenged, desperate to convince Thorn. 'Can you defend my mind when it was so easily breached as thus?'

'That and I'm wary that this is what it really is about,' Thorn contemplated more.

'Regardless of what its about!' Murtagh exclaimed. 'These mind invaders are a threat!'

Even Thorn couldn't argue with him there. And that seemed to convince the dragon more. 'But how will we even leave?' Thorn asked. 'They keep you under lock and key, and do you even have money for the journey? How will you get supplies?'

'Don't worry about that,' Murtagh reassured his dragon. 'I've got spare coinage, and don't forget that I'm a nobleman. Now that I'm over eighteen, I can access the funds and the money that Morzan left me as his heir.'

And that was true. He had a castle he could hide in if necessary. And though he loathed to touch anything that belonged to his father, he realized that he may have no choice if he was going to find his little brother. But it was a worthy sacrifice he was willing to make.

Morzan had several investments that he was involved in. That, and there was someone managing his money. Last time Murtagh had looked, he had made a lot of money on the stock market, and the last time he had looked was six months ago. He was richer than before, even if he didn't like it.

Therefore he wouldn't have to worry if he couldn't afford the journey. He had more than enough to spare. And that led him to the next unpleasant point.

The problem with it was that some of the money, or at least the closest source he could go to get it, was in Nasuada's kingdom. Some of it was in Surda, but that was out of the way of where he needed to go. And while he had coinage for the trip already on hand, even in his pocket right now, he'd only managed to slip enough past Brom and Vanir's ever careful watch to last the trip to his next source of money. If he'd taken any more of his personal money it would have become conspicuous.

Eragon had made quite a fortune on the stock market as well. Since his supposed decease, his will had stated that it was to be parted equally between Roran, Katrina, and Murtagh. He hadn't thought to include Brom because the man was dead back then.

But Eragon had also surprisingly inherited from Brom back when he was dead. But now that the man was dead, he took everything that he'd left to his son back. And with a shiver, Murtagh wondered if his own father would come back. If so, what then?

Murtagh had earned some money through honest labor with which he had then invested. And though he'd made a lot with his knowledge of the world of money, still, it wasn't endless like his inheritance from the dreaded Morzan seemed to be.

As for Eragon's will, even though he was suspected dead, no one could access the money right away. Because there was no body to prove he was actually dead, a specific amount of time had to pass before anyone would get their inheritance from him. And Murtagh had loudly demanded that they at least let that amount of time pass before they divvy up anything, for he was certain Eragon was alive.

Roran also wouldn't object because he also had his own wealth, and he didn't want to make it seem like he was greedy. Neither did Murtagh, for that matter, but that was besides the point.

But even if the time passed and they did distribute anything, should Eragon come back since the property was legally his, it would divert back to him and the same amount of money would be restored. His legal investments with their increase would also be restored to him, just like Brom's property had been restored to him upon his arrival back from the dead.

That was besides the point now anyways. First he had to find Eragon. And then he had to convince Eragon to come back with him.

Eragon, for whatever reason in his not so right mind didn't want to return even though the people desperately needed him. He could do that which Murtagh and Oromis could not, for he was the one who won the war against Galbatorix. Most would listen to him whereas they wouldn't listen to Murtagh, Thorn, Glaedr, or Oromis.

And Murtagh needed him. He emotionally needed him, for Eragon had been his human support that no one else could be and had been. Eragon had comforted him when others had refused to comfort him and had rejected him instead.

Thorn sighed. 'How will we even escape?' he demanded of Murtagh seeing as Murtagh seemed to have answers and everything planned out already. 'We'll be detected the moment we try anything. And they will take you back, as you have stated, and they will never let you out of their sight again.'

'Which means we'll only have one shot,' Murtagh gave his conclusion, and excitement coursed through him that Thorn was on his side. He'd convinced his dragon. 'I plan to stun whoever my babysitter is tonight, put them to sleep briefly. Then I'll make my escape.'

'And when magic doesn't work?' Thorn dryly asked, unconvinced that it would work.

At this, Murtagh couldn't help but grin a little. 'Who said anything about using magic?' the man inquired. After all, his plan was already formed and ready. He explained, 'If I were stupid enough to use magic, they'd detect it right away. No, I have something else in mind.'

'Which is?' Thorn asked and Murtagh shrugged. 'You'll just have to find out like everyone else,' Murtagh responded. 'I'm not giving everything away in case they raid your mind. Just be ready tonight.'

Thorn huffed. 'Fine!' he snapped and the dragon moved away from him causing Murtagh to fall on his back at which Vanir chuckled a little when he saw the startled expression on Murtagh's face.

Murtagh got up, ready to leave. As he rubbed his dragon's snout and stepped back, Thorn raised his wings. 'I'll spend some air time scouting the perimeter for a way to conceal our escape,' he promised and Murtagh couldn't help but leak gratitude back through the link.

As Thorn pushed off and flew away, Murtagh sighed and turned back to Vanir. "What now?" he asked the elf, wondering how else to spend his time until escape time. It wasn't like he could pack. He wouldn't be able to pack until his guardian was knocked out cold.

And even then, he'd have to be swift which means that there were a lot of things he'd leave behind since it was last minute packing and almost close to impossible to plan ahead.

The elf frowned, considering him for a moment. Finally, he relented, "Well, no use going to your room. You need some air. Granted, I shall be accompanying you."

"As to be expected," Murtagh dryly commented and the elf wisely chose to ignore the comment for Murtagh wasn't exactly in his right mind.

And so they set off, Vanir leading him through the stronghold.

(Later that night)

(Murtagh Point of View)

The day with Vanir had been boring. After being forced to attend lunch with Oromis to make sure he was eating, Vanir watching him the whole time as if he took his job a little too seriously, Murtagh had begun to feel a little uncomfortable in the presence of the elves.

Afterwords Vanir had graciously followed his request to spar with him, and they were both healing a number of bruises from that. A quick escape to the library then occupied his time, but he grew uncomfortable as Vanir seemed to be scrutinizing whatever material he pulled off the shelf and whatever page or part of the scroll he was in. The constant spying on him made Murtagh annoyed.

Unable to do some legitimate research, let alone of the spell that Brom had mentioned, Murtagh was instead pulling off historical records off the shelves, random ones, so as not to seem suspicious. It was as he did thus and was reading one on elven history, that Vanir's eyes lit up suddenly.

"I remember that," Vanir breathed in excitement when he saw what material Murtagh was reading. And Murtagh put the book down in annoyance. "I was told stories of this when I was a child. We have famous poems written about this!"

The literature was on the time when the elves first settled in Alagaesia. And Murtagh couldn't help but give Vanir an annoyed look.

"Why are you constantly reading over my shoulder?" Murtagh demanded. "I'm not a kid who needs to be babysat. Besides, it's not as if any of these books that we have here are banned. They're just literature books, history books." After all, all book bans had been lifted when Nasuada became queen. But then she had started a book ban of her own, on magic books.

Vanir couldn't help but look guilty at that. He admitted, "I was told to watch you closely and everything you do, everything you touch, everything you look at."

"And what about privacy?" Murtagh sarcastically asked, at which Vanir sadly shook his head.

"You lost that the moment you tried to commit suicide," Vanir explained and the boy sighed. There was no use trying to push the subject.

"And how," Murtagh asked, drawing it out as he closed the book shut. "How is looking at books supposed to prevent me from committing suicide should I so chose so again?"

Vanir tensed at this. "Do you intend to attempt to do so again?" he asked seriously and Murtagh raised an eyebrow in response. He didn't answer, which upset the elf. Upon seeing that he wasn't getting an answer Vanir decided to answer his question with a sigh. "We don't want you getting any ideas," he explained and Murtagh shook his head sadly. "Now, do you mind answering my question?"

Murtagh tapped his fingers on the book, seriously considering. Right now he didn't know, other than his plans, what he was going to do. After frowning and giving careful consideration he finally responded, "No, not unless I have absolute reason to."

But it was too vague for Vanir. "What do you mean by that?" he pressed further.

Murtagh shrugged carelessly. "It means I have no reason to do so right now. It's not as if you'd allow me to, anyways, what with you watching me constantly and others as well."

The elf seemed hesitant. "And in the future?" he inquired and to Murtagh's surprise there seemed to be care in his voice. 'Why on earth would he care about me?' Murtagh thought in confusion. And he was also vaguely aware of Thorn listening in on the conversation.

Once more, Murtagh frowned. "I don't know," he admitted. "I suppose, if I had nothing left to live for, then I would." And Thorn didn't know how to feel about that, neither did Vanir.

There was even more hesitation while Vanir asked. "Do you have anything to live for right now?" And he seemed relived when Murtagh nodded his head, as was Thorn.

"My dragon," Murtagh flatly responded, and joy filled Thorn that he was willing to live for him.

"But before..." Vanir trailed off and Murtagh winced at that, knowing that he had upset a lot of people. Not to mention Thorn had been pained by his choice to die.

Murtagh sighed, rubbing his face briefly with his hands. "A lapse of judgment on my part," he admitted quietly. "I was caught up in a moment of emotion, and I lost track of the only being around that I have left to live for. I fear that I have hurt his feelings."

Thorn sent some comfort and forgiveness through the link and Vanir seemed to be considering him carefully again, as if reassessing his opinion and outlook on him. "You miss him, don't you?" he whispered quietly and Murtagh fidgeted uncomfortably.

There was silence between them. Finally, Murtagh dared to admit in a whisper, "Yes. He and Saphira were there for me and Thorn when no one else was. I-I was a mess after what happened in Uru'baen..." he trailed off, feeling tears prick at his eyes. He had no wish to relive the past.

A long silence passed, and then he continued. "Eragon helped me heal. Dragons, they don't always understand human needs and emotions, as much as they try. And we don't entirely understand their needs and emotions either. I needed a human to help me through, and he was that when others weren't."

Silently, Vanir pulled up a chair beside him and sat down. "I heard things," he admitted. "I heard things about you, some of it from Eragon himself, though he never divulged your secrets to me in a one on one. Even if I asked, he was careful to protect your confidence. But I heard his worries and concerns for you.

"Admittedly, Eragon and I did not get off on a good start. But after the blood oath celebration, there was something I noticed in him that I hadn't noticed before. And I don't know how I didn't see it before. It was determination. Caring and determination."

The elf looked into the distance as if seeing something. "After that, after the war, we reconciled and became good friends, very close in fact. But even then I didn't understand how he could still care about you with everything that you'd done. I'd even seen his conflicted emotions about it in the past.

"But he still cared, because that was his nature in the end. He is very protective about those cares about."

Vanir contemplated more and then continued. "I saw how he went to bat for you," he whispered quietly, glancing at Murtagh quickly and Murtagh looked away sadly. "I've never seen him fight so hard on behalf of an individual before. Eragon is... connected to people, especially those he cares about.

"And it was during those meetings that I first got a glimpse at your life. It was then that I began to consider that perhaps I was wrong about you. I have never been brain washed or mind controlled before, Murtagh, so I don't entirely understand it and how much of a slave you were, or to the degree that you were.

"I can't imagine loosing one's mind to where one has no control over their beliefs or actions. And though you may not like it, for your sake he did divulge some of your secrets of what you went through for a taster of your life and what your were subjected to."

As Murtagh fidgeted uncomfortably at the revelation Vanir looked sadly upon him. "He staked a lot to get you eliminated of your charges, Murtagh. In fact, he staked his life and position as dragon rider on it. He staked his position in Orik's clan for it. He put it all on the line for _**you**_."

Vanir shook his head slowly and Murtagh felt tears come to his eyes at the revelation. "He cared a lot about you."

Tears poured down Murtagh's cheek. "And so it worked after that?" he asked Vanir.

Vanir tilted his head curiously. "It began to," he admitted. "And when Eragon said that you had been twisted by Galbatorix, that before he brainwashed you, you were different, people began reconsidering.

"And then further evidence was uncovered that supported your innocence, evidence that not even Eragon knew about. Disturbing it was, but it gave enough insight for many to reconsider and perhaps, with time, forgive you for that which was not your fault."

Tension filled Murtagh at this. "What evidence?" he asked. He began shaking in fear slightly.

At seeing Murtagh's tension Vanir gave him a piteous look. "A record," Vanir finally replied, and Murtagh seemed confused. "A number of records, actually. Apparently Galbatorix kept a record of all the subjects he tortured and had tortured through others, and brief accounts of what he actually did to them or had others do to them. His torturers kept records also."

'No!' Murtagh began choking. It was too much for him to handle. Others _**knew**_ what had been done to him? Others had access to that part of his life? Of when he was the weakest?

Despite seeing Murtagh's reaction, Vanir chose to continue. "The accounts were horrible. We had a hard time reading through them, and we were required to read all the way for evidence and to give a full account of what actually happened and went on. But even then, we could only handle so much and we didn't finish the records.

"What we saw was enough to clear you and a few others of charges, so we decided it wasn't necessary to subject ourselves anymore to that horrid part of the research. It granted many a great relief to stop reading them. They're kept permanently sealed away though, for though horrid it is, it is still a part of history.

"But we can't imagine actually experiencing them and being the individual those things were done to. As Galbatorix recorded how his subjects changed after being subjected to such, we were able to follow the changes in their patterns of behavior through the records. It gave conclusive evidence as to your innocence. Believe me, Murtagh. We had _**no idea**_."

The red rider was still clutching the table for support. 'No!' he thought. 'They didn't!' And Vanir gave him a moment before continuing. "We began looking at how other brainwashed victims and those whose true names were stolen and abused reacted throughout time.

"We researched others that had suffered similar fates by Galbatorix, those who had been forced to swear their fealty in the ancient language, as well as accounts in the time past. And we began to study how they coped and how they were healed, if at all. For there were many that were permanently damaged throughout time and now, immortal and otherwise.

"We noticed a pattern and the symptoms that such people experience, of which you are nearly a perfect fit. The way you close yourself off to the past and refuse to talk about it, the anger, pain, and confusion you experience. Everything, its from what happened.

"And what's even more is that your account is by far the worst. You seemed to have suffered the worst under Galbatorix, and comparing you to others in history, your case is one of the worst in existence.

"You must truly be strong to endure such. It's a miracle you didn't go mad, though that doesn't reduce the damage done to you. Somehow you held together somewhat under that kind of abuse. The average would have gone mad, even to death. All the others who had experienced the level that you experienced went mad and killed themselves. But you... you survived."

"Stop!" Murtagh hissed, clenching his teeth and gripping the table strongly. It hurt so much to hear and think about it. He wanted nothing more than to forget.

But Vanir leaned forward sympathetically. "You have nothing to be ashamed of," he whispered. "And in time, I hope you find healing. After the war, others were in the process of having their minds healed from the abuse they endured under Galbatorix, and many have wanted to help you-"

"STOP!" Murtagh screeched and Vanir flinched away in surprise as suddenly Murtagh overturned the table and ran out, running away from everything. When he reached Thorn's dragon hold, he didn't find him there. But that didn't matter.

Collapsing on the ground, he began weeping, the tears running down his face. Already, Thorn was coming back but he was still far away. He wouldn't be there for ten minutes at least. But he sent comfort through the link.

The memories Murtagh desperately tried to suppress began popping up and he brought his knees to his chest and leaned his head against his knees as he let his agony out. The faint sounds of footsteps reached his ears and he didn't look up. He had an idea of who it was.

The feet stood in his peripheral vision for a bit, and then Vanir slowly lowered himself to sit beside him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should have considered that perhaps you weren't ready to hear it yet. I should have thought about the fact that it might bring up memories of-"

"Stop!" Murtagh choked with a beg, feeling embarrassed at loosing his composure. "Just stop!"

Silence reigned between them after this, while Murtagh still continued to cry quietly, and Vanir not daring to broach a new subject. He just let him cry. And, after ten minutes, Thorn did indeed show up. But even the dragon remained quiet. They knew that he needed some time.

Humiliation coursed through Murtagh. It was humiliation of everything, of what he had been put under, of the fact that he wasn't strong enough to resist. It was his feelings of something in hindsight, and of the fact that others now knew what had happened in his moment of weakness. The pain, humiliation, and feelings of violation from when his mind had been forcibly invaded came back and he shivered slightly.

Thorn extended his mind to lend him support, and Murtagh took it immediately. He needed the reassurance that his dragon was still there and cared about him. And he was completely miserable. All the ground he had recovered when Eragon had helped to emotionally heal him had been lost with his disappearance and things only kept getting worse. He _**needed**_ Eragon back.

Vanir sighed and got up. "It's getting late," he murmured softly. "We'll take dinner in your room." And with that, Murtagh got up as well.

Softly, quietly, he followed the elf. Vanir seemed to trust enough that he wouldn't run off, for he let him trail behind. And Murtagh glanced at nothing, feeling dead to the world. Giving a soft goodbye through the link with his dragon to compensate for the fact that he had just got up and left without a proper goodbye, he closed the link silently, preparing himself for what he needed done.

Somehow, for some reason, even though Vanir had been the one to push him emotionally more than he should have, he felt a strange friendship beginning to form with the elf. Perhaps it was because they both had been close to Eragon and they both missed him. But for some strange reason Murtagh found himself hoping that Vanir wasn't working the night shift as well. He really didn't want to knock the elf out. He'd rather it be someone else, anyone else.

He didn't really want to knock anyone out, but it was a necessity. So, after dinner, he was relieved when Brom traded places with Vanir. But he groaned as well for Brom was a dragon rider, plus he was very observant. Getting past him was going to be even harder than getting past anyone else, even Vanir. Oromis was the only exception, but the elf was probably busy.

Still, he felt guilty for what he was about to do. As Vanir quickly exchanged a quiet conversation with Brom, no doubt a report on him, a sense of foreboding crept into Murtagh. In a little while he would be proceeding with his plans. And with Brom there he might very well fail.

It troubled him that he was going to be attacking his brother's father. Plus, he felt even more ashamed because Brom was treating him like a son, and had told Murtagh himself he saw him as a son. But part of the red rider wondered if that was just because he missed Eragon and needed a replacement.

And part of him resented being considered a replacement for his brother. If he was going to be treated like a son at all, he wanted it to be because he was him, and not a replacement for a lost son.

But they were only suspicions. He didn't know for certain if that was why Brom had taken him under wing and had practically begun to adopt him in all but paper and record. And he didn't want to endanger the father-son relationship and friendship that was forming between them.

But this was necessary. They could bond over their pain for Eragon later. Or rather they could rejoice together when Murtagh brought Eragon home.

Determination coursed through him. There was no turning back. And it was necessary. Though it might make things difficult between them, the end result was well worth it. That, and he was fairly sure that Eragon would forgive him for what he was about to do.

Brom, as usually, was scrutinizing him closely, never taking his eye off him. But, as had become custom, he also brought up small talk aimed at his welfare. "How are you fairing?" the man asked and Murtagh shrugged some. No doubt this was about the incident with Vanir.

"Okay," he replied and Brom glared at him, causing Murtagh to flinch some.

When his reaction was noticed, Brom's eyes softened some. "Be honest with me," he gently admonished and Murtagh couldn't school his features. He couldn't help but look away.

"I don't want to talk about it," Murtagh stated flatly and Brom continued to look piteously at him. He stayed that way for a few minutes.

Finally, Brom decided to try again, "It's just a simple question." And something about it got under Murtagh's skin, though he didn't know why. It shouldn't have.

"Leave me alone," the red rider whispered. Hesitation appeared on the elder rider's face, but as he gauged the younger's mood, he let it be. And silence reigned between them for a bit.

But as much as he hated the subject, and as much as Vanir's words had bothered him, he wanted to know the truth. But he wasn't sure how to proceed or what Brom would know about this as it had happened before he had come back from the dead. So he deliberated before asking, "How much did Vanir tell you about what he told me?"

Surprise was shown on Brom's face. "You're more observant than I gave you credit for," he murmured, shocked that he had deduced that that was what the conversation had been about.

Murtagh snorted in derision. "It wasn't too hard to figure out," he replied, and then stared off in the distance some. But finally, he returned to his gaze to Brom only to find the man considering him carefully, as if debating what he should or shouldn't say, or what would be safe to say without upsetting Murtagh and/or setting him off like what happened last time.

A sigh escaped Brom. "We've been fully aware of the situation and the trial well before we came here," was the answer, and it didn't please Murtagh.

There was more hesitation on Murtagh's part then. "It's... it's not true is it?" he asked.

Brom raised an eyebrow. "About what?" he asked and Murtagh shivered slightly for what he was about to ask for. And he wasn't honestly sure if he wanted to know.

It took a little while for him to gather the courage to ask, but when he had, he asked. "Vanir said that a record was found. A record of what Galbatorix had done to me. Is that true?"

Brom nodded slowly. "And we looked at the recordings of the trial, the records, the notes, as well as the evidence. That includes those books. But neither Oromis nor I could read through them all the way because of how... horrific they were. But we easily reached the conclusion that your judges did well before we even took a look at the record."

At this, Murtagh was shocked and somewhat upset, as well as hurt. "You looked at it even when you determined I was innocent?" he demanded and Brom sighed, coming closer.

"To know how to treat the patient you must first know what has happened and is wrong with them," Brom softly replied and Murtagh flinched at that.

"There's nothing wrong with me," Murtagh tried to snap but it came out weak and lame.

A piteous expression entered Brom's eyes and Murtagh was frustrated. He was tired of people's pity and their sad looks towards him. He didn't need it. As he looked away, Brom put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You may deny it, but you do need help. You tried to kill yourself, after all."

And Murtagh still continued to look away. He felt violated with all this attention on him. There were some things that he felt was best kept secret. "We want you to recover, Murtagh. We want you to be happy, to enjoy life. You're none of those things right now."

"Leave me alone," Murtagh softly whispered and he laid down on the bed as the tears ran down his face. Sobbing softly he tried to push the bad memories away, but to no success.

Fortunately, Brom didn't push him after that, and when twilight came around he was ready to proceed with the plan. Cautiously, he got up and made for the bathroom as if he was going to go change.

Brom was sitting in the chair and as he grabbed his night clothing he passed Brom on the way to the bathroom. Brom kept a careful eye on him as he passed, but turned his focus elsewhere when Murtagh went passed him. And it was then that Murtagh struck.

Lightly striking him where he knew that Brom would be out cold and yet it wouldn't harm him permanently, Brom dropped with a gasp. Thorn too acted, and soon Saphira was out cold. There would be no warning. Fortunately, both of them were not enemies and they merely were trying to subdue them, not kill them and deal a death blow.

But it still hurt Murtagh to see Brom lying on the floor vulnerable like that. However he didn't have a chance to dwell on it for he knew that he had to move.

Quickly taking a pack that he knew was under his bed he slipped whatever he could find, spare clothing and equipment, but no food for he would find that along they way, and he gently opened the door. Peering out to where knew that no one would see him, he gazed to make sure that no one was there, then he slipped out the door and quietly shut the door.

But on last thought he entered again, and using a small vial, he poured the contents down Brom's throat. It would keep him knocked out until morning. Murtagh was still lucky that he had it on hand, for he had purchased small amounts of it here and there long ago before his trial in case he ever needed it to help him escape. And he was glad that his preparation long ago had paid off.

Slipping quietly out the door after he had checked to make sure no one was there, he stole quietly through the castle, pausing to hide every so often as guards and other riders in training, some dwarfs, some humans, so urgals, and some elves, walked by. He didn't bother concealing himself with magic for fear that he would be detected.

Then, quietly, he made his way to the dragon stronghold only to see Thorn waiting abruptly for departure. Saphira, who'd he'd deceptively invited into his hold for a chat supposedly on what to do with Murtagh was crumpled in a heap on the floor.

Murtagh frowned some. 'I thought you were going to knock her out, not kill her!' he commented dryly when he saw how out cold she was. And he winced some. The poor dragoness would have a headache, that was for sure.

'She's alive!' Thorn replied in indignation. Still, wincing once again as he thought on the blow it would have taken to knock the poor dragoness out, he felt sympathetic. But that didn't change what had to be done. Slowly, walking over and hoping he wouldn't wake her, he slipped some of the drug out of his pack and put some of it down her gullet.

'Is that really necessary?' Thorn asked dryly and Murtagh merely shrugged and raised an eyebrow. 'Hurry!' Thorn encouraged him and Murtagh quickly saddled his dragon up. Then, getting on and strapping himself in, and holding onto his belongings which he would strap on during their flight, he gave Thorn a mental nod and the dragon bounded towards the edge then leaped off.

They flew close to the forest instead of in the sky for fear they would be seen otherwise. They also tried to stick in the areas where they would blend in, but both Murtagh and Thorn knew that would be difficult for a red dragon sticks out quite well.

If Thorn had been blue, like both Saphira's, they might not have had that problem and they might have been able to fly in the sky. But such was not their lot. And so they made do with sticking as close the tops of the trees without going to low and flying into them. And that proved difficult, though they managed.

As the wind blew past them, Murtagh couldn't help but feel exhilarated. It seemed like forever since he ad been flying and that was partly because he had been grounded on the land. He hadn't realized how much he missed the breeze in his hair, annoying as it was, and how much he missed the cold skies and cold altitudes, unpleasant as it was. And the gentle rocking motion that Thorn's flight gave him almost lulled him into a pleasant sleep.

'Sleep if you want,' Thorn offered but Murtagh shook his head and sighed contentedly.

'No,' he replied graciously. 'I want to keep you company.' And Thorn immediately understood his need to have his companionship for the moment, so he didn't question.

The two remained silent for the next couple of hours, however Murtagh was beginning to feel the exhaustion pulling him down. He struggled to stay awake.

'Sleep!' his dragon urged him and Murtagh groaned some, shaking his head in an attempt to stay awake as if he could shake the sleep out of his mind and eyes. 'I'll keep watch!'

'No...' he slurred, but he seemed to be wrestling with his whole body and what his body wanted at this point. He also desired Thorn's companionship at the moment, but his body was slowly winning out over his need for Thorn's comfort. It was getting to hard to resist...

'Sleep!' Thorn insisted once more.

And this time Murtagh couldn't help it. He gave into his body's demands and sleep washed over him, hope lining his thoughts. In his minds eye he thought he dreamed of Eragon but this one was cold and distant, different in nature.

And in his dream he called out.

"Eragon?"

(Eragon Point of View)

Time seemed to be passing Eragon by in his immortal life. It seemed to be getting swifter and before Eragon knew it, in a very short amount of time, in days, he was adjusting to his life as a vampire now that he had others like him or similar to him to interact with. He even enjoyed time spent with the wolves. And, slowly, Jane and Alec began tolerating him.

To his surprise, he was growing close to Jane and Alec, like they were becoming family. They had become good friends in a relatively short period of time, as if they had known each other their whole immortal lives and their whole human lives. In fact he felt a bond of family with them and a few others. And this only seemed to make his existence worth while for once.

A cohesive unit began forming, and as time went on, though he was friends with many, he soon found that he was spending more time with those vampires that felt like family, and the wolf pack who had practically become family as well. And for some reason, Jane and Alec were softening up and opening up.

No one said anything for fear Jane and Alec would close themselves off again, but they all seemed surprised at the effect Eragon was having in their midst. That made Eragon wonder if they had even truly had friends before, or if they were fake friends. He pitied them.

Soon, Eragon's former life, his human life was forgotten, and soon family meant his vampire family. They consisted of Jane and Alec, whom he learned more about and their involvement with the Volturi, as well as some about their human lives. (Though not too much for there was sensitive information about their human lives).

Then there were the newborns that were turned about a couple weeks apart and were younger than him. They had journeyed from outside of Alagaesia at the request of some of the Volturi who had come across them. They appeared nineteen and twenty five.

The eldest of the newborns was Kyoko Ayame Hiroshi. She was commonly called Hiro or Hiro-San or Hiro-Sama. Though Eragon wasn't sure, he thought that her people were from another world before they settled on his world. That said, he'd never heard of the name before nor did he entirely understand the suffix as she would play with him and refuse to tell him what it meant every time he asked.

The other was Jordan Mitchell Blake. He to was from the same general region as Hiro. But, even from the same country, they didn't know each other before as it was a large area. They must have been from different cities that neighbored each other.

However they found each other shortly after they were both turned and became good friends, travelling together, though no romance developed between them. They were both just brother and sister.

Apparently nomads frequently ran through the region for they were not turned by the same vampire even though they were turned initially within miles of each other. Coincidence of course.

Then there was the Quileute vampire, Emilie's niece. It was only then that Eragon got a glimpse at how old Emilie really was. And it was then that he learned more about her which she freely shared for they had become close friends and family as well. Apparently, her mother had been killed by one of the children of the moon as she was on the threshold of phasing for the first time. She never got the chance to phase.

"It's quite a feat to kill one of Jacob's descendant's," she explained. "You see, we too have to have to have blood once in a while because of the vampire in us. And we always phase. Descendants of wolf and vampire will always phase. So she was born immortal, and while not able to phase yet, she was on the verge of it."

Emilie then explained how, given each generation passing, when a wolf and vampire have children that the human genetics, being weak, are not passed on. "Only immortal genetics are passed on. But it gets more complicated than that." She did not explain further.

What she did explain was that her mother had been disapprovingly married at a young age. "It wasn't looked well on," she explained. "And then she had my sister and me before she even phased."

But after her mother was killed and hadn't quite come back yet, and her father as well, as it didn't always happen right away, she was left to raise her sister. And she did.

She never married. But her sister did. "She didn't wait to imprint," she told him. "It's abnormal, what my sister and mother did. Usually those that phase or are guaranteed to phase, like the imperial lineage, never marry before they phase and imprint because of the problems it causes.

"But my sister did and had a child. Then the child of the moon that my mother had died trying to kill came back and killed my sister as she was on the verge of phasing as well. Huh. Ironic. But we all managed to kill it."

"What then?" Eragon had asked, and she paused what she was doing, carving a piece of wood as she sat down. She examined it for a bit before replying.

A sigh escaped her. "I loved her, so I took my niece in. My sister had married a mere human, a mortal, so I assume that she's chosen not to come back at all.

"I've practically adopted my niece. As half vampire, because we are descendants of vampires, she had the same hardness that Quileutes and vampires do, though vampires and descendants of vampires are harder.

"But a vampire attacked her, mistaking her for trespassing in his territory. He must have been pretty territorial, and ironically, she was on the verge of phasing as well. Must be the fate of my family. She wasn't venomous, though a few of the vampire descendants are. But they can't be turned by their own venom. Someone else has to turn them.

"She's not venomous though. But, she was bitten, it miraculously pierced her skin as a hybrid's is somewhat less durable than a normal vampire. But it's not like their blood is appealing to a regular vampire so he was able to resist the attempt to drink her blood nor have as bad a blood lust because of it. But, venom got in her system and walla! Vampire! Full blooded vampire!"

Eragon tilted his head curiously as she continued. "That's why I summoned her here, you know. If a coven really is forming here, I want her apart of it, if only to keep Jane and Alec in check."

And somehow, Emilie's niece had managed to fit in and become family anyways, regardless. She had become his niece and the niece of everyone else in the coven.

His niece was at least three hundred and fifty years old. Of that much he knew. But how old she actually was, he didn't know. She appeared seventeen.

"Emilie Rose Black," he had murmured after listening to Emilie and Saphira yawned outside the tent they were in. The flap was open so she could see it as well as hear it. And then his niece's name. "Ariadne Euadne Black." And the name was also interesting.

The next two to join them were nomads, a married couple to be exact. In fact they were the only married/mated pair in the coven. None of the others were paired off, not even Jane and Eragon.

They had wandered in after hearing rumors that Jane and Alec were in the area. They were even older than Emilie apparently. According to Emilie they were turned in the age of her grandmother if she calculated correctly. And Jane and the female had become friends quite quickly. Even Alec was developing a good friendship with and brotherhood with the male.

At first they thought they were going to remain cousins, but after coming to love the area they decided to join their fast growing coven.

The male was the eldest, born a hundred years before his wife. They were both turned by different vampires, him on purpose as an experiment by a vampire to see if he had the control to do it. Then the vampire had abandoned him soon after.

His creator had apparently gotten the idea because a famous vampire known as the Inventress had turned him. The only difference between she and him was that she assumed responsibility and trained the newborns she turned. Only then she abandoned them.

"Her philosophy is that the bird has to leave the nest," Alec had explained to a curious Eragon. Apparently, as Volturi members they had business dealings with her. "She expects them to go on their own when she's satisfied that they can control themselves, so she leaves them.

"She doesn't like humans for reasons I'll not get into, so she only really is around them when she's observed one to see if she considers them worthy to turn. Very few catch her eye and even fewer she deems worthy. Usually she avoids human civilizations altogether so she comes in contact with very few."

"Except to hunt?" Eragon had guessed morbidly, for how else could she come across them?

But to his surprise Alec shook his head. "She's vegan," he confirmed. "But not for the reasons you or most are. She could care less about human life. She's vegan because she hates humans and wants nothing to do with them. She doesn't even want them _**in**_ her.

"And hunting humans would put her in too frequent contact for her liking. That's why she avoids them. But, usually, if seeing a human in a plight, she turns around and leaves them to die because she could care less. As far as she's concerned, humans aren't her concern, nor are they her interest."

Eragon had considered then. "So how does she come across humans then?" It was confusing.

Alec shrugged. "How did you come across the vampire that turned you? Beings wander into the wood, and sometimes the deepest parts. Usually it means nothing, as there are very few of us, but a lucky few, and sometimes unlucky view depending on how the vampire lives, come in contact with the supernatural."

"You mean that it was likely I wouldn't have come across my creator?" Eragon asked.

Alec shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know what was going through her mind that day. And I get the feeling the newborn Hiro could answer that better than me, considering what Eleazar mentioned the last time he was here. But, I guess it's possible that she could have chosen to go a different path that day and someone else could have wound up her victim. Maybe they would have been turned, maybe not. But it doesn't really matter now does it?"

Eragon didn't respond, so Alec continued. "She was the one who invented the necklaces the vampires and Quileutes wear, you know." Alec didn't say anymore after that.

Suffice it to say that one of the Inventress's creations had created Hadrian Jason Vahn. A hundred and fifty years later, fifty years after another nomad had unintentionally turned Xiao Lu Yi by accident, they met. A year later they were married and continued their lives as nomads until they came to dwell in Jane and Alec's coven.

Alec and Jane jointly led the coven. And an interesting coven it was, for all the vampires were gifted and vegan. Hadrian would have loved to meet the Inventress and have her join their coven, but Alec had informed her that she was a loner. "Which is a pity because she's gifted to. Quite a unique and powerful gift. She would have been right at home were not for the fact that she's a loner."

"And what's her gift?" Eragon asked, but Alec merely smiled mysteriously, never answering.

Regardless, their talents were diverse and interesting, though sometimes similar. Alec had sensory deprivation, and Jane of course had her ability to inflict pain.

Hiro-sama was interesting, for at first Eragon thought she had telekinesis after seeing her hold some objects in the air. But apparently that wasn't it, and even Alec had confirmed that wasn't her gift. None in their coven but Jane and Alec knew what it truly was, and though he asked often, Eragon had a hard time getting it out of her.

Eragon was similar to Benjamin, being a rare elementalist. He might even be somewhat more powerful than Benjamin, judging by his raw talents. But they had never been pitted against each other, and Jane and Alec had no wish to attempt to pit them against each other.

"Just hope we never have to fight Benjamin and find out," Alec joked. But Eragon's talents were kept silent outside the coven, truce, pack, and Volturi.

He had discovered it accidentally after arriving the first day in camp. He'd discovered it when he found that while he could light fire with magic, he didn't need magic to do it. And it felt different and more powerful to use his vampire abilities instead of magic to light fires.

From there, at Jane and Alec's eager insistence he had worked on the earth, splitting it and other things, as well as mastering all the elements. And he was still learning more about his gifts.

Jordan, the dark skinned intelligent newborn who was turned about the age Eragon was, was the opposite of Eragon. He could rearrange the atoms and subatomic structures, and even smaller portions, into another element or even anything he wanted to. Often, he and Eragon would practice together.

Once, Eragon had made a castle of water and froze it with ice. It was hard work and left him panting, something odd for a vampire. Then Jordan had looked at it and turned it to gold. He'd been practicing turning things at a distance without touching it. Soon after, they had disbanded it to try again, but didn't have as good success for they were both exhausted and worn out. But they continued practicing.

Ariadne had inherited her ancestor's gifts, as occasional descendants would inherit these gifts, sometimes many of them, and sometimes all of them to varying degrees of power. She was lucky for she inherited all of them in very powerful forms.

Shield penetration, mind reading, sending thoughts across to others, as well as shielding were her gifts. But she was more powerful and her gifts differed some.

For one, she couldn't automatically read thoughts like Edward, but she could constantly sense minds that weren't shielded. She had to actually concentrate and then she would get the thoughts. She could get it from multiple subjects at once.

But, like Aro, she could read everything about a person if she wanted, everything they ever did or said, everything they felt, the emotions they experienced, their knowledge, etc.

As Renesmee had grown older, she had become able to send messages vast distances without touching someone. So could Ariadne, except she could link minds as well and make people participate in a "conference call".

Her shielding capabilities were also more powerful than Bella's and she could shield against every gift but very few it seemed, whether mental or not. And her mind was automatically shielded against every gift unless she chose to lift it completely, which was difficult for her and she rarely did it.

And, like Renesmee had come to be able to, she could pierce any shield at any distance and lay it wide open and vulnerable to the enemy.

The major drawback was even though she had all these gifts she could only use one gift at the time. The only exception was that her mind was always shielded against everything, whether she used a gift or not. But if she chose to extend her shield, she could use no other gift, and if she chose to lift the shield completely off her mind, she could use no other gift in which instance she was vulnerable.

Lu Yi was interesting. Like Jane, she had a formidable gift that could be used offensively. She could control people's minds and bodies if she wished, as well as erase and create memories.

But like Edward and Bella, her mate's gift was opposite of hers, being defensive. He was also a shield against every vampire gift, but his worked differently. Instead of blocking people, it turned their talents on them or deflected it onto whoever he wanted.

For example, if Jane tried to use her pain gift on him, she would feel the pain instead. Alec would feel his own gift. And once, his mate out of curiosity when testing them (as they told the story to their new coven) had tried to see if he could block her. She told her mate to dance like a chicken and flap his arms like a chicken.

In return it had turned upon her and she was the one doing it until he "neutralized it with his shield". That meant that while his shield was still active, it wasn't casting back on the person anymore. But he was still shielded from their attacks.

He could extend his shield as well, but even when he did, he was still shielded. That was unless he removed the shield entirely from him. He could also, instead of directing the person's talent directly back on them, reflect it onto someone else that wasn't shielded, which made it interesting.

Such was Eragon's new found family.

So distracted was he with his new family, his new coven, that he entirely forgot about Murtagh. Well, forget is the wrong word since vampires can't forget. But he didn't bring Murtagh in remembrance. He'd found a new family and was enjoying them. After all, as Edward had once said, vampires are distracted easily.

And for once he could let go of the past. So he let go of Murtagh so that his brother could live on his life in peace. After all, vampires get distracted easily, and that was what Eragon was learning without even realizing it.

The weeks passed and Eragon created his own necklace to shield him against the sun. Even his coven and the other vampires had come to include Saphira his dragon. And he would fly with her frequently. And she was included in discussions and other things that weren't dangerous to her, to his delight. And he knew that she loved being paid attention to.

His human memories faded more as he didn't access them. He didn't need to when he was for once happy as he was. He was happy to be a vampire.

And he also learned more about the vampire trouble makers. Apparently many had been exposing themselves to humans and creating numerous newborns, a problem. What was more, was that they were attacking vegans. They were trying to overthrow the Volturi, as was rumored. And the Volturi didn't know who was creating them.

Many vampires were afraid of the chaos they were causing. They didn't need their kind exposed to the humans and elves here. Then they wouldn't be able to move as freely.

Alec and Jane mostly led vegans, but they had a few traditionalists on their side. But no matter how many of the enemy that was determined to kill them they destroyed, they kept coming back through the veil. And it was even more curious that mortals and elves were as well. It confused everyone for why would someone want to bring mortals and lesser immortals back? Not even Eragon.

"So someone has a grudge against the Volturi and is causing problems?" Eragon concluded.

"Yes," Alec respond monotonously.

"And they choose to cause trouble here because it's less likely the Volturi will notice until too much time has passed and the problem is even worse the before."

"Near as far as we can tell," Jane explained in confusion. "But there appears to be more going on. Our masters sent us here to deal with it when they sensed insurrection against them, but we know of no one other than possibly the Romanians who would want to do this. Our quarrels with everyone else has been solved and gone away for thousands of years. And even things with the Romanians have calmed to where they're quiet civilized with each other."

"Plus we can tell that it's not the Romanians behind this. This simply isn't their style," Alec added. And both he and Jane exchanged a curious glance that had meaning Eragon didn't quite understand. But whatever passed between them must have been significant.

And as Eragon and Jane were becoming very close he was curious as to why she wasn't sharing it with him. She was more open to him now days. But, at a quick look at her schooled features he wondered if she was protecting him in her own way from whoever was doing this. He was, after all, a newborn.

Jane didn't want to lose him, that was for sure. And though neither were admitting it, they were developing feelings for each other. And as he was over Arya and didn't seem to have feelings for her any more, he didn't even so much as think of her when he started developing feelings for Jane. Jane was his sun now, and his feelings for her were even deeper than his feelings for Arya ever were.

In fact, they'd often spend one on one time talking. Unfortunately, though Alec was his friend, this had put a damper on their friendship and brotherhood temporarily because he didn't like that Eragon had feelings for his sister. Even as the younger sibling, he could see where this was going. So, when he saw Eragon with Jane, he merely tolerated it. But things calmed down, somewhat, and he'd hang out with Eragon again.

"Then who?" Eragon dared to ask them and was frustrated when they shrugged.

"We don't know," Alec admitted, and narrowed his eyes as he knew the questions was directed at Jane. He'd accompanied them for a walk because if he didn't then he knew that Jane and Eragon would go for a walk alone. The last thing he needed was for his elder sister Jane _**courting**_ Eragon. Or dating, or anything like that. Even if it was a walk between friends he didn't like it because they had feelings for each other, even if neither dared to admit it.

For a long while they said nothing and merely enjoyed each other's companionship. It was quite peaceful even though they were living in a dangerous time.

Eragon sighed softly and they walked back to camp.

And so as the weeks turned into a month and half later, Eragon found that since a month and a half from discovering Jane and walking into the camp, he was content and fitting in.

And he greatly wished that that could last.

(Murtagh Point of View)

Over a month had passed since his dream of Eragon and his escape from the Stronghold. And it had been a very trying time for him. Most of all, he had found that escaping them had caused numerous problems. Since that time people had been looking for him, but Murtagh wasn't about to return.

It was during that time and the journey to Alagaesia that Murtagh had somehow convinced Thorn to let him see king Orik. 'I don't know about this...' Thorn tried to tell him, but Murtagh was persistent. He didn't back down.

"Regardless of whether or not you see him, I will," Murtagh growled and the dragon sighed and changed course for the Beor mountains.

The dwarfs had been wary to let him in, but when he told them that he wanted to speak to king Orik about Eragon, they warily let him in at Orik's command. Apparently Eragon was the key word, or rather name, for him to gain access to the dwarf realm.

As much as many hated him for what he had done, they were wary to be angry at him, especially from the new evidence that had come out about his situation. That, and when they had learned that he wasn't exactly in his right mind by it, they had pitied him somewhat after they understood the implications of what he had faced.

But healing the rift between them would take time, but they were willing to give him a chance, although grudgingly.

He and his dragon were watched as the entered Tronjheim. But they separated him from his dragon, for they weren't about have both present when he saw king Orik.

King Orik was also wary, but he did extend him greetings as a guest. When they sat in a private room under the giant mountains to talk, there was an awkward silence between them. Finally, Orik asked while scrutinizing him for deception, "So, you wish to talk about Eragon, do you?"

Murtagh nodded, and at that point he chose to be honest. "I know that you're foster brothers, and that you're a very good friend of his, so I feel that maybe there is some way that you can help me find him. You did, after all, send search parties after him, and you remained the longest."

Orik took a deep breath, sighing, before he answered, "And as I remember correctly, you complained because our search parties didn't stay long enough in your opinion."

After wincing, Murtagh warily nodded in acknowledgment. "I should have been grateful for the amount of time that they did stay. For that I am sorry."

For a while there was awkward silence and no one said anything. Then, Orik inquired, "And have your own search parties found anything? Any new evidence as to what may have happened to him?" Carefully Murtagh shook his head. "Then what is it that you want from me? Did Oromis send you? I hear you gave him leadership."

Murtagh nodded. "Oromis is leader, thank goodness." And a curious look entered Orik's face as Murtagh said this. "But he did not send me. I... escaped."

And the red rider wasn't sure of the expression on Orik's face at the moment, as he couldn't decipher it. And he could also feel Thorn's impatience on the other end for he was blocking his dragon out. He had explained how he had wanted some privacy with the dwarf, and he had felt Thorn's wariness at that. But he felt his dragon become suspicious at what they were talking about.

Finally, Orik did answer. "Escaped?" he inquired with raised eyebrows, and with an embarrassed red face Murtagh admitted to his suicide attempt.

"They've been keeping a close eye on me since then. They wouldn't let me out of sight."

Again, looking stressed this time, Orik replied softly and yet distinctly, "It sounds like you shouldn't have come then."

"Well, I highly doubt they'll look here for me. Besides, that's not the entire reason I've come here. I plan to be on my way soon, but I seek wisdom perhaps."

Another curious look entered Orik's face. "Wisdom?" he questioned incredulously.

Taking a deep breath, he talked about his mysterious dream encounter with Eragon, stating how it led to a confrontation between him and Oromis. When Oromis and Brom refused to believe him, he had planned on escaping. He skipped over how he escaped, even though Orik asked.

"But we didn't kill anyone, if that's what you're thinking. But I think there are two who will have woken up with a big headache." The dwarf king didn't inquire further after that.

Orik listened closely with no expression on his face. He listened as Murtagh explained how there was no magic involved, and how he doubted the elves would be able to explain the phenomenon, let alone how this "Eragon" had contacted him. "Thorn doesn't think it's him," Murtagh admitted. "He thinks it's an impersonator if anything. But I'm not so sure."

"If what you describe is correct, it's a sudden change in his very appearance," Orik admitted. "And a big one."

The red rider sighed. "I didn't want to go to the elves for a number of reasons. For one, they're a very magical people, and I doubt they'll be able to explain it. They explain everything in things of magic, and since this doesn't appear to be the case, I doubt they could help me.

"Plus there's the fact that Oromis is an elf, and Arya is staying with us, so if I go there, I'll get caught and they'll return me to the riders. Then I'll never be able to escape and research this, let alone search for Eragon.

"The urgals still love bloodshed and fighting. I doubt they'd have any literature that could shed light on this matter. The humans are too superstitious and they'll get overly afraid if I mention this, whether or not it is actually a threat. They're too afraid of the unknown."

"Which leaves us," Orik stated monotonously.

Murtagh nodded. "I figure there's a less likely chance they'll look for me here. And what's important is that though dwarfs have magic, they're not overly reliant on it like the elves or dragons. And then there's the fact that dwarfs aren't superstitious and frightened easily like my race.

"Plus, you're a highly educated people. I feel that if there is anyone that can help me solve this riddle, it's your people. That, and even if you rat me out that I'm here, at least I might get some sort of help before I leave."

"You think I would do that?" Orik challenged and Murtagh quickly shook his head.

"Not you, but maybe others who don't like me," he quietly admitted.

They were currently alone in the room, and though there were guards outside the room, Murtagh doubted that anyone could hear the conversation. Orik was tapping quietly on his wooden chair that seemed more like a throne though it wasn't. He was carefully considering Murtagh once more, and there was a curious look on his face.

Finally he sighed. "Describe the dream again?" And Murtagh did so. And he found Orik's expression interesting. "No magic involved? You sure?" Orik asked once more and Murtagh nodded.

Orik closed his eyes in deliberation, seemingly stressed. "What do you know about dwarfish history?" he suddenly sprang the question, and excitement coursed through Murtagh. He might finally get some answers as to this whole dilemma!

"Not much," Murtagh admitted, schooling his features carefully to contain his excitement. "Only what I learned in Uru'baen growing up. Are you saying that you know something about this?"

"No," Orik admitted quietly, frowning. "It is most peculiar." There was a long pause, once more. "But old legends are brought to mind. Legends and myths long since forgotten. You could ask a thousand dwarfs here in Tronjheim about them, about what I'm about to tell you, and they won't have heard of it, no matter their station. Even their ancestors won't have heard of it.

"What I'm about to tell you is older than written record itself. It dates back before we even wrote. And by the time we did start writing, these stories were so controversial that no one wrote them down. Thus the general population doesn't even know about them. Only a few old families know about them.

"My uncle, Hrothgar, used to tell me the myths as a kid as a way to get me to behave."

Orik sighed, looking away for a moment. Then his expression turned serious. "But I want your word in the ancient language that you won't speak about this to anybody, dwarf, urgal, elf, or otherwise. Not without my direct permission."

At this, Murtagh had to admit to himself that he was confused. "What about Thorn?" he asked.

Orik looked him carefully over. "If he makes the same oath in the ancient language to me or you, that he won't reveal it to anyone, no matter what, without my direct permission, not even hinting it, then yes."

Murtagh nodded, curious about the secrecy. "Why keep it secret?" he asked.

And Orik slowly shook his head. "Because it's controversial," he admitted. "I don't want to be mocked, nor do I want my family mocked for carrying down these stories through the generations. You see," he began. "Our history says one thing, but the myth suggests that there's a large part of our history that's left out.

"We're talking about beings so old that they've faded into mythology and have long since been forgotten." The king looked off into the distance, thinking carefully on how to word it. And there was worry and concern in his eyes.

"So far as my ancestors have been able to deduce, some urgals and humans have myths of these beings passed down to their families. But, like with us, it's not in the knowledge of the general population. Their legends of these mysterious beings are also so old that they've faded into mythology and have then been forgotten.

"Truth be told, we don't even know if their legends _**are**_ even speaking of the same creatures, for there are differences. But there are also similarities."

"And these creatures," Murtagh asked. "What are they? And why would you think that they're involved?"

A chill went down Murtagh's spine as Orik intensely stared at him. "You're description of Eragon resembles some of the descriptions of the myths of one of these creatures," he admitted. "All of these ancient beings were immune to magic, in fact, magic did not function in proximity of them.

"But the myths speak of the cold ones. They speak of beings deathly pale and cold as death itself. They're said to have red or gold eyes, sometimes black, and they are said to have an enormous amount of strength, legendary about of strength. They strength acquitted to them is ridiculous really.

"They are said to be so fast that you can't see them. Another ridiculous part of the story. They're impossibly fast. Because of this, the myth says that a single one of them can destroy an entire city in one night without leaving any survivors.

"Personally, I and many who know the myths think that it was made to explain away atrocities committed by enemies. I believe the enemy would use the myth anciently so that no responsibility for the attack would be placed on them.

"But the creatures are also said to be immortal. They are said to be impossible to kill."

Murtagh shook his head at this. "Impossible to kill? Anything and everything dies!"

"My sentiments exactly," Orik dryly responded. "But that is ultimately why people chose to forget about these myths. There really is no foundation for them. They're preposterous!"

They were silent for a few minutes. Then Murtagh asked, "Anything else?"

As he looked away, contemplating, he shrugged. "I won't go into detail in the stories, but yes. It's said that wolves, massive wolves are usually seen with the golden eyed ones. But considering the fact that large animals are found here, it's not preposterous. What _**is **_preposterous is the fact that those wolves are said to be as intelligent as a human, and to turn into humans."

Surprise echoed on Murtagh's face and Orik chuckled. "Like a werecat?" Murtagh asked.

And Orik chuckled again. "Were do you think the werecats learned their tricks from?" he challenged. "They may deny it, but the dwarf myth says that there were _**werewolves**_ before there were werecats. It's said that they taught them how to turn into animals, and they chose to be cats.

"But that's what the myth says, not necessarily actual fact. I bet that the werecats will never admit that. After all, even when they turn into humans, they still look fairly feline. But these werewolves are said to look completely human when they turn, so much that they would pass for human. At least that's what the myth says."

Orik sighed, and then continued. "But the myths do speak of weaknesses. The wolves are said to be repelled by silver and water, and water and sunlight is said to repel the cold ones as well. In fact, it's said that these things turn them to statue and immobilize them, though they can't die. The very next day they are released from the spell, however."

And Murtagh shook his head. It all sounded so ridiculous. But to his surprise, Orik got up. "Come!" he gestured, and Murtagh looked at him questioningly as he moved to the door and dismissed his guards. "I trust him. He won't try to hurt me," he assured them at their protests.

Then he led Murtagh down a series of corridors deep in Farthen Dur, and when he had looked both ways and was sure that no one was watching, he silently whispered to the wall. Then, taking a dagger, he cut his hand and placed the blood on the wall, smearing it.

"What are you doing?" Murtagh asked, only to receive a glare from Orik. And when a door opened, he looked in surprise. There had been no door there before, or any sign of one. "Where are we going?"

"Not now, not here," Orik commanded, and led him inside the tunnel. Taking a torch that was on the wall and was so old that there were webs on it, he looked expectantly at Murtagh.

The door closed instantly, sealing them inside to where there were no cracks nor any indication that it was even there. "Brisingr," Murtagh commanded, hearing fabric shred, and the torch lit up, casting a pale light around everything. Then Murtagh made a motion towards Orik's wounds. "Do you want me to heal that?" he offered, but to his surprise, Orik shook his head.

"Not until we leave here," Orik explained to him as he bound his wounds with the fabric and led him through the old corridors as if he had been there before.

Orik then announced, "Nobody knows about this place. As part of your oath, I expect you and your dragon to keep quiet about this as I'm sure you'll share it with him. Very few families know about this, and my family is one of the few who do. I've only been down here once before, so forgive me if we get lost. But I'm confident that if we do, I can find my way back again."

Orik silently led them down the immense stone ramp that spiraled downward. As Murtagh lit a few more werelights as they moved to give them more light, he was surprised at how old the corridors and everything looked. Then they went through a series of corridors and finally into a chamber.

Murtagh gasped at what he saw, and Orik smiled a little. "Consider yourself honored," he told the rider. "You're the first outsider to see this, let alone be allowed in these secret tunnels that very few dwarfs know about. And this is the most precious part of these tunnels.

"Of those who know about these tunnels and have come down here, very few have been allowed into this room. An honor you have been given indeed, outsider. Others who know about this may not be happy about it, but given the circumstances I feel like I've been given a just reason for sharing this with you."

Murtagh took a step forward, reaching out, but not touching the walls. On each of the walls were painted tapestries extending the full length of the long room that may as well have been a mile long. And he had just seen one out of many.

A young woman with blonde hair and gold eyes stared back at him out of the large, massive tapestry. She wore some pants, but of a much different style. In fact, the clothing she wore Murtagh had never seen before. A necklace adorned her neck with two slanted lines joining together at the bottom, the main symbol of the necklace. She looked hauntingly beautiful, posed elegantly for the picture.

As he turned to the other painted tapestry behind him he saw a young man with the same necklace around his neck. He wore a strange long buttoned up shirt that he didn't know was a coat. It had two lines of buttons running down it. Then the pants appeared unlike anything Murtagh had ever seen.

This tapestry was also large, extending to three times his height where it was pinned by string from two sides to a large nail hanging above it.

The young man's gold eyes stared back, his expression impassive. He appeared slightly younger than Murtagh. Short, brown hair ran down his head and he was clean shaven, something not many humans were. His serious expression also seemed to emanate power and he was also quiet elegantly posed.

The tapestries were so real, so life like in the way they were painted, to the shadows adorning the faces, that he wondered how on earth it was produced. He was aware of no artist that could duplicate with this much precision that the artist making this had.

He started as Orik came behind him. "No, our artists never made these," he admitted with a sigh. "It was said to be given to us by one of those mythological beings. But it's also said that she wasn't supposed to give it to us.

"The legends say a woman created this, and she asked us to safeguard it where no one would find it, thus these rooms were created. But it's also said she wasn't even supposed to let us have these to begin with, that she broke some rules in doing so."

"Why?" Murtagh asked. These tapestries were so beautiful and life like that he couldn't imagine why anyone would want them hidden. He also noted the pale features of the woman and young man, how similar they looked to the new Eragon, and how they could pass as being related to Eragon perhaps.

In fact, if he had only known what Eragon looked like now, and if he'd seen these two and not known that they weren't related, he would have said that the young man and young woman in these tapestries were his kin, his brother and sister.

Orik shrugged. "I don't know. But so we did and followed her commands. In fact, these tapestries are the only evidence besides the legends, other than of the woman who created these, that those mythological beings even exist to begin with. Those of us who know about them preserve them well. And as to how they were made so life like, I don't even know. It exceeds our skills."

Murtagh was seriously tempted to run hand down the cloths to see what they were made of, but he refrained for he was sure that Orik wouldn't approve. And, spending a lot of time, they walked the mile examining each and every tapestry that the mysterious being had made with such detail.

The male and female in the first tapestries were included in number of them. And as they progressed Murtagh realized that if put in a different order they might be telling a story.

"It's said that these tapestries give a more detailed and significantly different history of our earlier days," Orik commentated. And Murtagh couldn't express his shock as he gazed in awe.

Finally they left the chambers and only then did Orik allow Murtagh to heal his wounds.

At the end of the day, Murtagh thanked Orik and bid him good bye. "Don't know if what I told you will help," Orik grumbled and Thorn, who had been left out, whined somewhat at that, curiosity at what Murtagh had discovered in his eyes.

The boy sighed and bowed to the king. "Regardless, you have given me a lot to think about," he admitted. But truth be told, he couldn't help but wonder if it was indeed related to the dream he had had. Could these beings be responsible for his brother's disappearance?

Murtagh mounted Thorn and the dragon flew off. And it was then, as Murtagh was commentating on this that Thorn immediately pounced on his mind.

'Okay, what were you talking about?' the dragon demanded. And after swearing in the ancient language, Murtagh gave Thorn most of his memories, eliminating the ones about his searching for Eragon in such a manner that Thorn wouldn't be able to detect that he was concealing something.

Thorn was equally puzzled. 'An odd set of stories,' he admitted.

From there they flew carefully to Morzan's old estate to get some money. The estate had gone back to him after the war for it was rightfully his even though Galbatorix had stolen it and used it. After staying the night and ensuring in the ancient language that his servants would never divulge that he was there let alone hint it, he and Thorn left.

And as much he hated it, he knew that he may need to use the castle as a place of resort and refuge in the future.

The person that Murtagh wanted to talk to was his old friend that had hidden him when he had escaped Uru'baen the first time. To his surprise, he was welcomed. As his friend asked him how he was, he launched into his story, eliminating major portions of it. Then he came to the part he wanted to think about. "I need your help," he admitted.

"What of?" his friend asked him, putting his cup of apple juice down.

Murtagh took a deep sigh then continued. He told about his financial predicament. "I need you to extract the money for me," he asked. "I can't go there in person for a number of reasons." And, giving him a letter that was closed with his seal on it, he watched as his friend hesitated to take it.

"I don't know," he finally said. "There's already suspicion about those who know magicians, especially those who have had close connections with the old empire. It will certainly raise a few questions if I go there and extract your money. I'm already being watched as it is."

"Please?" Murtagh asked. "I need to make a long journey and I don't know when I'll be back."

His friend narrowed his eyes. "Nasuada will be mad," he grumbled, but then finally agreed to it.

After he returned, Murtagh thanked him. He and Thorn ended up staying the night and day before they set off the next night. But not without shock and fright, for he had run into Vanir, quite literally to. And at the shocked expression on the elf's face, he turned and ran back to his friend's estate, hiding the rest of the time until they had to leave.

He and Thorn were wary after that, carefully to make sure they were aware of their surroundings. It was a close call, that was for sure. But Murtagh doubted that it was a coincidence that he had run into the elf. They must have somehow known he was nearby. What he hoped was that no one had ratted him out.

And so they headed into the wilderness, deep outside of Alagaesia. They were somewhere northeast of Du Weldenvarden.

Murtagh had been so busy worrying about not being caught that he hadn't really paid attention to the fact that Thorn was getting uncomfortable with his avoidance of the others. And so, it shocked him when his dragon mentioned, 'You know, we've really found nothing that can explain what you convinced me what this is about.'

And Murtagh couldn't help but stiffen at that. He hadn't realized that Thorn was growing uncomfortable with their ventures and was planning something.

'We have!' he thought back in indignation, somewhat offended. And so, hearing his tone, Thorn set him down and Murtagh climbed off. He got the hint. They were done flying for today, even though it was broad daylight. 'After all, Orik told us some interesting things.'

'But _**how**_ does that help us find these mind breakers?' demanded Thorn. 'No, you're pointlessly pursuing this because you want to find Eragon! You don't care about anything anymore, not even me!'

'That's not true!' Murtagh replied in desperation.

'Really?' Thorn challenged with a growl, desperation to reason with Murtagh in his voice, as well as pity. Murtagh also thought he sensed Thorn's longing for home as he had become attached to the dragon stronghold and the people and dragons there. 'Well, if you did, you would have paid attention to my feelings in the matter! But no! You don't anymore! It's Eragon this, and Eragon that!'

'I think the mind breakers and Eragon are connected!' Murtagh explained.

'And they're just stories!' Thorn scoffed. 'Even Orik doubted if it was real.'

"NO!" Murtagh shouted, and he was desperate at this point. Yes, Thorn wanted out of this venture and to bring him back, for his own good (Thorn thought), but Murtagh wasn't quite done and satisfied. He was so close to figuring this out! "I am sure of this! Why don't you trust me anymore, Thorn?"

'Because your reasoning has become flawed!' Thorn growled. And then he was sympathetic and pleading. He seemed to be back to his previous sentiments that Murtagh needed emotional help and was pointlessly pursuing what he should let go of.

'You're emotionally distraught, so much so, that you're willing to believe in children's fairy tales! Please! Please! Let us go back! Just forget the matter! He's gone! Can't you see that? He's gone and no amount of pursuing will bring him back!'

'No,' Murtagh growled. Determination to continue no matter what lined his eyes. He was dead set on this. 'I've come this far and I won't abandon it! Besides, weren't you wanting to know who is possibly able to invade our minds? That's why you came, right?'

'I came for you!' Thorn responded after some hesitation. 'I came because I thought for once you had something reasonable to search. But we've searched and found nothing! Instead, you only get myths and legends. Be reasonable, Murtagh. And the truth is that while you may have been searching for that, it wasn't your ultimate goal. But we've reached a dead end. Let's return!'

"NO!" Murtagh shouted, tears now running down his face. Betrayal coursed through him, betrayal that his dragon would give up so easily. "Not until I've solved this!"

'Then you leave me no choice,' Thorn growled and launched himself at Murtagh, trapping him to the ground with his paw. Murtagh writhed and squirmed in the dragon's grip, but was unable to break free. 'I'm taking you back to the Riders! It's for your own good!'

A shout escaped Murtagh and he mindlessly used magic to throw Thorn off. "No!" he shouted in desperation and pain that he and his dragon were now at odds. "If you won't help me then I'll continue on my own!" And with that he began whispering in the ancient language, forming a complicated spell and using what was around him to fuel it.

Thorn's eyes widened in fear when he saw what Murtagh was doing. And when he couldn't get near him from the magic he whined in emotional pain. 'No!' the dragon begged. 'Don't do this to me! Come back with me!'

But Murtagh ignored him, somewhat angry with his dragon and the lack of faith that was explained. So he continued the spell in emotional pain and anger, distraught at Thorn's interference with his goals. As Thorn launched himself at him, there was a bright flash of light and in an instant he was transported somewhere else, somewhere far away and unknown.

He took in his burned surroundings, a wild wilderness with only grass, and for a while he felt free and like he could finally pursue Eragon without interruption and trouble.

But it was also then that his predicament dawned on him. He had no money, no food or water, and he only had the clothes on his back. He'd left them all with Thorn in an emotional outburst. How would he provide food for himself?

Terror at his situation dawned on him, and he realized that once again his emotions had gotten the better of him. He was lost and he had no idea where he was or how far he had gone.

The sensation of being lost and far away from help overwhelmed him. Collapsing on his knees and then collapsing to the ground, he began sobbing at what he had done. He'd wanted to search for Eragon but had acted too rashly. And now he was paying the ultimate price for that. Without knowing where he was he had no hope of navigating home or transporting himself home with magic.

As the fear coursed through him, he thought of his dragon. They'd hurt each other's feelings for sure and both had said that which they knew each other would regret. But it hurt him that Thorn had lack of confidence in him. 'Eragon,' he thought. 'You could have avoided all this if you had come back! Why? Why abandon us? Why abandon me?'

He sobbed and sobbed, regretting being too far away to communicate with his dragon.

And he was emotionally lost.

(Eragon Point of View)

Eragon had just hunted by himself, eager to get back to his coven. They had been attacked by other vampires as of late, and he couldn't afford to be away for too long for others may need him and his unique gifts. That and Jane had said that she'd wanted to ask his opinion on something.

The young vampire took that as a sign that she was confident in him. After all, she was far older than him and had thousands of years of experience as far as he could tell. So that made him wonder why on earth she would ask him, a newborn, for advice. That was unless this gesture meant something else?

Could it be that she had feelings for him? They often laughed and joked together, and he liked it when she smiled as opposed to when she was grumpy. She had a rather sweet personality, once you got to know her.

But she'd also had a troubled past that haunted her. He could tell that there were things that happened that she didn't want to talk about, especially things like when she was human. And it seemed that Alec had shared in these, thus their close relationship with each other not just because they were brother and sister.

If Eragon inferred correctly, for the longest while Alec had been the only one Jane truly had, even if she had been around others. They shared an unspeakable and complex bond.

Human. That word didn't seem to associate with him anymore. He was so used to being a vampire and called a vampire that he was totally adopted to his new life now, and everything that came with it. It was truly incredible to him. He had no beating heart, yet he still walked and talked.

And he'd never felt more alive.

In fact, it was as if that this was the life that he and Saphira were meant to lead. It was as if their destiny was meant to be to change the vampire/Quileute world.

Saphira felt this to. In fact she was excited to learn that there were more dragons like her, those bonded to a vampire rider. And she desperately wanted to meet them.

After convincing Jane and Alec to give them a few names (other than Eragon and Bi'daum as Jane absolutely **_refused_** to see him), their coven had agreed to go with them to find them after this whole situation with the criminal vampires was sorted out. But Alec and Jane were somewhat wary. It made him wonder what kind of past they had with these other riders. Whatever it was, they refused to tell him.

As he was running back, he stopped as an absolutely delicious scent he hadn't smelled for a while reached his nose, just as the sounds of sobbing did. He was frozen for a minute in shock. It was human! Deliciously human! Venom watered his mouth at this and he had to work to keep himself in check from the unusually delicious smell.

He was thankful that he'd fed right before running this way though it was still more difficult than it should have been to resist. And he was also thankful that he'd been amongst humans in another country outside of Alagaesia as he was visiting a different coven with Jane and Alec, so he'd learned to control his thirst by now, even if blood was spilled.

But this unusually delicious smell was testing the range of his exceptional self control.

However, as curiosity got the better of him, he ran through the forest until he was in view shot of the human, almost reverting into a hunting state. Not the best decision, he realized, as he could have lost control, but he was so curious at what a human was doing here where they were so far away from civilization.

They could have only ventured here by magic where it wasn't negated by the lack of concentration of vampires and werewolves in the area.

And this human smelled quite delightful to him, much more appealing than anything he'd ever come across.

It was like he'd found his own brand of wine that was made specifically for him, so Eragon made sure to keep his thirst in check. He was sure he had found a singer to him. La tua cantante as Jane and Alec had called it. And if he hadn't have fed before venturing across this human, he was sure about one thing: that human would have been his meal.

The poor thing was thin, frail, and mangled. He sobbed so weakly while his arms were wrapped around his knees in a fetal position, that Eragon pitied him. And Eragon realized he'd been there for a while.

The smell of burnt nature greeted his nostrils, something he'd noticed with curiosity a while back. It confirmed his suspicions that the human had traveled here by magic, whether intentionally or not.

But his eyes were on the figure wearing Alagaesian clothes. It was male, a male human. It had a cloak wrapped over him as he sobbed and he was curled in a fetal position.

Slowly walking over so as not to frighten the human, he stopped short, and turned the figure around and gasped.

There was Murtagh looking as lean as ever and male's eyes widened in astonishment when he saw Eragon. Disbelief, fear, pain, and anger were only a few of the emotions that crossed over Murtagh's face. And he to was stalk still, looking at Eragon.

They stared at each other for quite a while, and Murtagh, who seemed to be having an emotional breakdown, started trembling somewhat as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Eragon snapped out of it first and withdrew his hand, tilting his head curiously, a frozen statue. He said nothing as the figure reached out, almost hopeful that he was real.

And then the trembling voice reached him.

"Eragon?"

**So this is chapter four here.**

**Okay, so far no one has reviewed even though I've had several views. And so I am desperately asking someone to review and give some advice.**

**Could it be that no one is really interested in this? If so, why am I even writing this?**

**Is it really that boring?**

**Should I take it down perhaps?**

**Firestar'sniece**


End file.
